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OF    READING    SERIES.  * 


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OF  A  GRADE  Hi  CV 


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SECOND  AND  T 


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MARCIUS  V^/ILJjBO^ 


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NEV\  -v. 

i,^'  HARPER    ^    ;"-OTHr 


~--'-*^'  ■'■'::':;' 


BOO£S£LLER, 


EDUCATION  DEPTs 


n^ 


I 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  sixty-five,  by 

V  Harper  &  Brothers, 

In  the  Clerk's  Oflfice  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District 


of  New  York. 

EDUCATXON*  DEFii^'"   . 

*rf       ^    •-'  ^  1    4      «*    J    /    A     i*>    J  •        •>*  " 


PREFACE. 


This  Reader  is  designed  to  be  used  between  the  Second 
and  Third  Readers  of  the  School  and  Family  Series,  by  those 
who  wish  additional  reading  matter,  of  this  intermediate 
grade,  for  their  pupils. 

While  the  present  work  aims  to  furnish  a  great  variety  of 
reading  exercises — much  of  it  emotional^  with  numerous  les- 
sons on  character,  duty,  etc. — it  nevertheless  adheres  to  the 
general  principles  on  which  the  other  Readers  were  written. 
Thus,  although  much  the  larger  portion  of  the  work  consists 
of  what  may  be  called  miscellaneous  reading  matter,  yet  a 
few  easy  lessons  upon  the  metamorphoses,  uses,^abits,  etc., 
of  Insects^  have  been  introduced,  designed  as  introductory  to 
the  general  subject  of  the  Insect  Woeld,  which  is  set  apart 
for  a  higher  Reader.  By  this  means,  those  pupils  who  do 
not  progress  so  far  as  a  Sixth  Reader,  may  obtain  some  little 
elementary  knowledge  af  some  very  interesting  subjects  in 
Natural  History,  which,  at  this  early  stage,  could  not  be 
treated  in  detail. 

A  feature  of  this  Reader,  to  which  we  would  call  the 
special  attention  of  teachers,  is  the  series  of  brief  Notes 
throughout  the  work,  explanatory  of  the  lessons.  The  ob-« 
ject  is  to  make  prominent  the  character^  design^  and  tenden- 
cy of  each  lesson,  in  addition  to  its  rhetorical  use,  and  there- 
by to  aid  the  teacher  in  questioning  the  pupils,  and  in  enforc- 
ing upon  them  the  truths  designed  to  be  taught,  and  the 
principles  to  be  inculcated.  The  reading  of  every  lesson 
should  be  followed  by  questions  to  the  pupils,  and  explana- 
tions by  the  teacher,  which  should  not  be  limited  to  what  is 
actually  contained  in  the  lesson,  but  should  be  extended  to 
what  is  appropriately  suggested  by  it  also. 

M69931 


CONTENTS. 


I.    ELEMENTS  OF   GOOD  READING.  ^.^^^ 

L  Aeticulation , 7 

Elementary  Vocal  Soundd : 

Exercise     I.  Tonic  Sounds 7 

"         II.  Tonic  Sounds — continued 8 

*•■       III.  Subtonio  Sounds 9 

'^       IV,  Atonic  Sounds 10 

"         V.  Miscellaneous  Subtonic  and  Atonic  Combinations 11 

"       VI.  Faults  in  Articulation  to  be  avoided 12 

1.  The  Suppression  of  a  Sound 12 

2.  The  Omission  of  a  Syllable 12 

•           3.  The  Change  of  a  Vowel  Sound 12 

4.  Miscellaneous 12 

5.  The  Blending  of  Syllables  of  DiflFerent  Words 12 

II.  Accent  and  Emphasis 13 

III.  Inflections ^ 13 

Rising  and  Falling  Inflections 13-17 

The  Circumflex,  or  Wave 17 

The  Monotone 18 

IV.  Pbinciples  op  Geneeal  Application 18 


II.   READING  LESSONS. 

Lesson 

I.  What  Pictures  Teach 19 

II.  Acting  a  Lie 21 

nr.  The  Sparrow* 22 

»     IV.  A  Kiss  for  a  Blow 23 

V.  The  Young  Galley-slave 25 

VI.  Night  and  Day 28 

God  18  seen  in  every  Thing 29 

VII.  The  Snow-storm 30 

VIII.  A  King  Reproved 30 

JX.  Time  Duncan ; . .  31 

X.  Riding  against  the  Wind 34 

XI.  The  Creation 36 

XIL  God  has  Counted  all 36 

XIIT.  A  Bargain  is  a  Bargain 37 

XIV.  The  Thunder-storm 40 


Those  designated  by  Italics  are  in  Poetry. 


CONTENTS.  V 

Lesson  Pftg« 

XV.  The  Laughing,  Happy  Man 41 

XVI.  The  Angry,  Unhappy  Man 42 

XVII.  The  Things  I  Love 44 

XVIII.  Little  Dick  ^nd  the  Giant— An  Allegory 45 

Hymn 47 

XIX.  The  Goldfinch 48 

XX.  TheOldSlate ...^ 49 

XXI.  Business  First,  and  then  Pleasure 52 

XXII.  Fickle  Weather 53 

XXIIL  The  Lord  made  them  All 53 

XXIV.  Meditation 54 

XXV.  The  Ant  and  the  Cricket.— A  Fable  in  Prose 55 

XXVL  The  Antandthe  CricfeL— A  Fable  in  Verse 57 

A  Grain  of  Corn , 58 

XX\TI.  Jack  Frost  and  the  South  Wind 59 

XXVIIL   Why  should  we  Fear? 61 

XXIX.  The  Blind  Boy  (Prose  and  Poetry) 62 

Resentment  and  Forgiveness 63 

XXX.  What  shall  we  Build? 64 

XXXI.  Trust  and  Try  {Prose  and  Poetry) 66 

XXXIL  ''I  Can"  and  "2  WilV 68 

XXXIII.  The  Crocodile  and  the  Ichneumon 68 

XXXIV.  How  Beautiful  the  World  is  (Prose  and  Poetry) 70 

XXXV.  The  Echo *  71 

XXXVI.  A  Peep  at  the  Birds 73 

XXXVIL  I  would  I  xcere  a  Little  Bird. 79 

XXXVIIL  Old  Wonder-eyes , 81 

XXXIX.  Father  and  Daughter 85 

XL.  A  Father's  Blessing 87 

XLI.  The  Daisy's  Social  Circle 88 

XLII.  The  Selfish  Boy 89 

XLIII.  The  Lost  Camel 92 

XLI V.  The  Captive  Bird's  Complaint 94 

XLV.  The  Crickets  on  the  Hearth 95 

XLVI.  Leon  and  Clara 98 

laSVU.  The  Little  Marquis  and  his  Sister 100 

I.  Their  First  Visit  to  the  Country 100 

II.  Their  Adventures  on  the  River 101 

HI.  Their  Adventures  on  the  Island 103 

XLVm.  Time 107 

The  School-room 109 

XLIX.  The  Farmer's  Life 110 

L.  The  Farmer  in  Spring 112 

The  Pearl  of  Truth 113 

LI.  Spring  is  Coming *. 114 

LII.  The  Farmer  in  Spring — continued , 115 

LIIL  Labor 117 

LIV.  The  Chestnut-bur 118 

LV.  The  Freed  Butterfly 124 


vi  CONTENTS. 

4     Lesson  Page 

LVI.  The  Farmer  in  Summer ." 125 

LVn.  The  Farmer  in  Summer — continued 128 

LVm.  Give  to  the  Poor 130 

LIX.  Who  was  the  Gentleman  ? 130 

LX.  The  Music  of  Insects 133 

LXI.  The  Katydid  {Prose  avd  Poetry) 137 

LXII.  The  Goodness  of  God t 139 

LXIII.  Courage  and  Presence  of  Mind 140 

LXIV.  Hf^o  is  my  Neighbor? 145 

LXV.  The  Uses  of  Insects 146 

LXVL  The  Spider  and  the  Fly.— A.  Y&Uq 152 

LXVII.  Keep  to  the  Right 154 

L XVIIL  The  Gold  Sovereign 155 

LXIX.  The  Gold  Sovereign— continued , .158 

LXX.  Praise  the  Lord 162 

The  Bible... 163 

Mind  makes  the  Man 163 

LXXI.  Caterpillars  and  Buttei-flies 164 

LXXII.  The  Wormand  the  Butterfly 170 

LXXIIL  The  Humming-Bird  and  the  Butterfly.— A  Fable 171 

LXXIV.  Dare  and  Do 172 

A  Noble  Boy 172 

LXXV.  Bees  and  their  Dwellings 173 

LXXVI.  Honeyballand  Violetta;  or,  the  Hive-bee  and  the  Carpenter-bee 176 

LXXVII.  The  Thrush's  Song 182 

LXX vm.  Speak  Gently  •  Kindly 183 

LXXIX.  The  Farmer  in  Autumn 184 

Bad  Thought 187 

Advice 187 

LXXX.  The  Farmer  in  Autumn— continued 188 

LXXXI.  Autumn 190 

LXXXIL  Why  call  me  Poor? 190 

LXXXIIL  The  Water-rat 191 

Gentle  Words  arid  Kind  Deeds 192 

LXXXIV.  What  are  Living  Objects 193 

LXXXV.  Now  and  Then  :—Bij-and-By 195 

LXXX VT.  The  Crows  and  the  Wind-mill 196 

LXXXVIL  Better  than  Pearls,  Gold,  and  Diamonds 199 

LXXXVIIL  Words  and  Acts  of  Kindness 200 

LXXXIX.  The  Farmer  in  Winter 201 

XC.  May  Morning 204 

XCL  The  Child  and  the  Skeptic— In  Prose 205 

XCIL  The  Child  and  the  Skeptic In  Verse 206 

XCIIL  The  Ants  in  the  Garden 208 

XGIV.  The  Wonders  of  Ant-life 211 

XC V;  The  Child: s  Prayer 215 

The  Record  of  Life 216 


i 


INTRODUCTOSJ. 


ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READmt^'.   ' 

I.  ARTICULATION". 

Aeticulation  is  the  art  of  uttering  accurately,  and  dis- 
tinctly, the  various  vocal  sounds  represented  by  letters,  syl- 
lables, and  words. 

Correct  articulation  is  the  basis  of  good  reading  and 
speaking.  It  implies  an  exact  knowledge  of  the  vocal 
sounds,  and  their  use  in  words  as  determined  by  the  best 
speakers. 

ELEMENTARY  VOCAL  SOUNDS. 

The  elementary  vocal  sounds  may  be  divided  into  three 
classes :  eighteen  Tonics^  or  pure  tones,  represented  by  the 
vowels  a,  e,  ^,  o,  ^^,  and  sometimes  y ;  fifteen  /Subtonics,  or 
modified  tones,  represented  by  the  consonants  b,  c?,  g  hard,^, 
Z,  m,  n,  nffy  r,  th  soft,  v,  w,  y,  s,  zh;  and  ten  Atonies^  or  mere 
breathings  modified  by  the  organs  of  speech,  and  represent- 
ed by  the  Aspirates  /,  h,  k,  p,  s,  t,  th  sharp,  cA,  sh,  and  wh. 

Exercise  I. — Tonic  Sounds. 
In  the  following  table  let  the  pupil  give,  first,  the  name 
by  which  the  sound  is  designated,  then  the  example,  and, 
lastly,  the  element.    After  this,  let  him  give  the  elements 
only. 


Name. 

Example. 

Element. 

Name.          Example. 

Element. 

A  long 

Fate 

a 

A  before  r    Fare 

a 

A  short 

Fat 

a 

A  as  in          Last 

a* 

A  Italian 

Far 

a 

E  long          Mete 

e 

A  broad 

Fall 

a 

E  short         Met 

e 

*  By  many  considered  the  same  as  short  a  (a) ;  by  others  as  intermediate  between  a  ia 
£at,  and  a  in  far. 


ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING. 


Name. 

Example. 

Element. 

Name. 

Example. 

Element. 

I  long 

Pine 

i 

U  long 

Tube 

u 

I  short 

Pin 

i 

U  short 

Tub 

ti 

0  long 

Note 

6 

U  obtuse 

Full 

u 

0  short ' 

"Not 

0 

Oi  as  in 

Toil 

oi 

0   Hke,) 
l(}j}gQp:l 

M5v0, 

0 

Ou  as  in 

Bound 

ou 

Exercise  II. — Tonic  Sounds,  continued. 

Let  the  pupil  pronounce  the  following  words  accurately 
and  distinctly,  giving  to  the  letters  in  Italics  the  sound  de- 
noted by  the  vowel  at  the  head  of  the  paragraph. 

A  long,  as  in  fate:  fame,  ale,  ape,  date,  slate,  gate,  tame, 
same,  flame,  wave,  save,  whale ;  sa^l,  ha^l,  gauge,  say,  great, 
freight,  deign,  they,  com-pla/n',  con-vey',  m-veigh',  neigh'-hor. 

A  short,  as  in  fat :  hat,  fat,  lad,  hat,  man,  pan,  can,  be- 
gan', fan'-cy,  mar'-ry,  com-pan'-ion ;  pla^d,  gt^ar'-an-ty. 

A  Italian,  as  in  far:  barn,  farm,  mart,  fa'-ther,  star,  car, 
har'-py,  mar'-tyr,  a-larm',  balm,  parch '-ment ;  heart,  hearth, 
gward,  hawnt,  daunt,  flawnt,  launch,  gawnt'-let,  jawn'-dice, 
a-vawnt'. 

A  broad,  as  in  fall:  ball,  call,  hall,  tall,  salt,  nor,  form, 
storm,  fowght,  soi^ght,  ought ;  fault,  cause,  au'-gev,  aw'-f\\[, 
aw'-thor,  \aw'-jev,  al'-ways,  aw'-gust,  bal'-sam,  baw'-ble,  pal'-sy. 

A,  as  in  fare:  care,  share,  dare,  rare,  snare,  stare;  hair, 
there,  he^r,  com-pare',  for-bear',  de-clare'. 

A,  as  in  last:  grass,  pass,  staff,  dance,  branch,  chance, 
chant,  graft,  waft,  blast,  grasp,  class,  mas'-tiff,  past'-ure, 
plas'-ter,  bom'-bast. 

E  long,  as  in  mete:  theme,  scene,  scheme;  beard,  ft'eld, 
y^eld,  fiend,  grieve,  hrief,  leaf,  quay,  seize,  p^que,  ma-r^ne', 
treat'-y,  re-h*ef ',  be-h'ef,  re-ce^ve',  de-ce^ve',  re-cezpt',  len'-ient. 

E  short,  as  in  mU:  men,  wren,  bed,  fed,  helm,  yes,  chest, 
egg,  ket'-tle,  mer'-it,  tep'-id ;  bread,  said,  says,  saith,  fr^end, 
realm,  man'-y,  guess,  leop'-ard,  spe'-cial,  pref'-ace,  heif'-er. 


I  long,  as  in  pine:  fine,  twine,  shine,  smile,  mile,  vine, 
kind,  ch^Id,  might,  isle,  bUght,  flzght,  o-bh*ge' ;  height,  type, 
buy,  sky,  al-ly',  de-fy'',  ap-ply\  aisle,  g?/^le. 


ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING.  9 

I  short,  as  in  pin:  t^n,  f^n,  s^nce,  ft'll,  p^ll,  In^ss,  h^ss,  b^d, 
h^d,  r^ng,  pr^nce,  qmnce,  sk^p,  whip,  ser'-v^le,  ag'-^le ;  myth, 
]yr'-ic,  bw'-sy,  s^6ve,  cyn'-ic,  cyl'-in-der. 

O  long,  as  in  note:  told,  fold,  sold,  vote,  dome,  roll,  port, 
home,  more,  on'-ly,  po'-et;  loathe,  dowgh,  glo?^?,  floio,  sowl, 
sei^,  beaw,  \)\y!-xeau^  yeo'-man,  en-croach',  hawt'-boy. 

O  short,  as  in^o^;  blot,  dot,  bond,  fond,  pond,  fox,  shot, 
odd,  rob,  sob,  fos'-sil,  fos'-ter,  do'-cile,  pros'-pect ;  was,  wash, 
wand,  watch,  wasp,  kno^(J^-edge. 

O,  like  long  00,  as  in  move :  prove,  lose,  tomb,  do,  who, 
dis-prove'. 

U  long,  as  in  tube:  twne,  wse,  mwte,  cwbe,  twbe,  f2^me, 
pi/re,  k^te,  flwte,  d2^'-ty,  cw'-bic,  cw'-rate,  mw'-sic,  re-s^^me', 
en-dwre' ;  wew^  few,  -pew,  T-wes'-day,  pur-smt',  beaw'-ti-fulr 

U  short,  as  in  tii^b :  twn,  si^n,  hwt,  jt^st,  dwst,  cwll,  huzz, 
swng,  thwmb,  vwF-gar,  hwr'-ry,  htisk'-y ;  son,  dove,  does, 
rowgh,  tongue ;  her,  sir,  term,  verge,  earth,  verd'-ure. 

U  obtuse,  as  in  full:  pwll,  huW,  bwsh,  pwsh,  pwss,  pz^l'-pit, 
p^^l'-ley,  bwtch'-er,  ci<ck'-oo,  cwsh'-ion ;  cowld,  wo?/ld,  should, 
good,  hood,  wolf,  wool,  foot,  book. 

Oi,  as  in  toil:  bo^l,  cozl,  foil,  -void,  coin,  tur-mozl',  em- 
hroiV,  foz'-ble,  re-jo^ce' ;  coy,  toy,  joy,  boy,  em-ploy',  oys'-ter. 

Ou,  as  in  bound:  sour,  hour,  -pound,  prowd,  nown,  doz^bt, 
trowt,  grownd,  showt,  de-vowt',  a-rownd';  noz^,  yow,  broz^n, 
toi^n,  croi^d,  \oio'-e\,  en-doto'. 

Exercise  III. — Subtonic  Sounds. 

The  following  will  be  found  useful  exercises  for  securing 
distinctness  of  articulation.  Pronounce  the  Italic  letters 
very  distinctly ;  also,  give  the  vowel  sounds  correctly. 

B,  as  in  Me,  hkd,  5ar,  Z»all,  b'axc,  5ass ;  ^east,  Jest ;  bind, 
b\\\ ;  bone,  bot,  boor ;  M'-glc,  Mg'-gy,  buV-]y ;  boil,  Jound. 
JBa.be,  drab,  robe,  proJe,  baZ>'-Z>le,  hab^-bler,  in-ha5'-it. 

D,  as  in  dale,  Jab,  c?ark,  c?awn,  dkre,  c?ast'-ar  Jy  c7eal,  debt ; 
c?ive,  did;  dome,  dot,  mood;  dn'-ty,  dvist,  good.  Mod'-est, 
de-dnce',  2t,d'-ded,  wed'-ded,  da'-tedf,  i2i'-ded,  si'-ded. 

G,  as  in  ^ale,  ^ay,  yarb,  yall,  y^r'-ish,  yds ;  year,  yuest ; 
yuile,  yiU ;  yore,  yot,  yoose ;  ley-time',  in-yulf ',  yoi'-tre,  yout. 
Bey'-yar,  yew'-yaw,  yuin'-ea,  playue,  yuard,  egg,  juy. 

A  2 


10  ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING. 

J,  as  in  /ail,  Jack, /ar,  Jaw ;  Jest,  ^Sst'-ure,  ^en'-ius ;  ^i'-ant, 
^ib'-bet ;  Ju'-ry,  judge,  Judg'-ment,  Jus'-tice.  Ed^e,  led^e, 
wed^e. 

L,  as  in  lame,  Zamb,  /ark,  tall,  /air,  /ass ;  /east,  /ess ;  line, 
hill;  lone,  lot,  loose ;  /u'-rid,  /ug'-ging,  bii/'-/y.  Lo//,  /ive'-/y, 
/ove'-ly,  aw'-fu/-/y. 

M,  as  in  made,  mad,  mar,  mall,  mare,  mass ;  meat,  mend  ; 
mind,  mill ;  moan,  mot'-to,  move ;  mtile,  miU'-lin.  J/am'- 
mon,  mo'-ment,  hjmn,  mem'-o-ry,  me-men'-to. 

N,  as  in  name,  na'-val,  nsup'-kin,  7z*ar-cot'-ic,  naught,  /^au'-ti- 
lus,  nast'-y;  neat'-ly,  net'-tle;  mght'-ly,  nW-nj;  Tio'-ble, 
non'-sense,  noose ;  nude,  niim'-ber.  Ban'-ner,  gnaw,  kneel, 
kitch'-en,  hy'-phen. 

Ng,  as  in  hang,  king,  ving'-ing,  fUng'-mg,  an'-ger,  con'- 
gress,  noih'-ing,  -pro-long',  dri?2k,  plank,  lynx,  tin'-ker,  ran'- 
kle,  mon'-key,  con'-quer,  an'-chor. 

R,  as  in  raid,  rad'-i-cal,  de-bar',  rare,  rasp,  rear,  rest,  rise, 
riv'-er,  ro'-ver,  rot-ten,  rood,  ru'-ral,  riish.  E-ter'-nal,  for'-mer, 
for-bear',  mur'-mur. 

Th,  soft,  as  in  ^Aat,  ^Ais,  ^Aese,  ifAose,  with,  thus,  tithe,  clothe, 
hreth'-ren,  far'-thing,  fa'-ther,  brea^Ae,  wreathe,  hea'-then, 
there'-fore. 

V,  as  in  vain,  val'-id,  var'-nish,  vast,  veal,  vest,  vile,  vir-lain, 
vote,  viv'-id.    Weave,  sev'-en,  re-vive',  re-volve',  pre-serve'. 

W,  as  in  wail,  wag,  wall,  ware,  weak,  west,  wild,  will,  wove, 
woof.     Be-'i^are',  way' -ward,  i^orth'-less,  ?^el'-come. 

Y,  as  in  you,  use,  use'-ful,  year,  ya-^n,  yawl,  young,  yon'- 
der,  mil^-^on,  fil'-^al,  pon'-^ard,  span'-^el. 

Z,  as  in  ^eal,  zest,  zine,  zone,  as,  was,  maze,  prize,  flies,  a-rise', 
dai'-sies,  prais'-es,  bree^'-es. 

Zh,  as  in  as'-ure,  bra'-sier,  gla'-der,  leis'-ure,  meas'-ure, 
o'-sier,  seis'-ure,  vis'-ion,  col-lis'-ion,  pleas'-ure,  treas'-ure, 

Exercise  IY. — Atonic  Sounds. 

F,  as  in/ame,/an,/ar,/all,/are,/ast,/east,  in;/*est,/ind, 
fill,  foam,  fond,  food,  /u'*el,  fun'-nel,  fuV-lj,  foil,  /ound. 
i^n'-ci-/ul,  prof-fer,  craft' -j,  rough,  e-nough',  cough,  trough, 
laugh,  laugh' -ter,phys'-ic.  phan'-tom. 

H,  as  in  Aate,  Aad,  Aall,  Aair,  Aearse,  Aeld,  Aive,  Aill,  Aone, 


ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING.  H 

Aot,  /ioot,  M'-mid,  Mm'-ble,  Aound.  ^ot'-Aouse,  be-Aest', 
or -hand. 

K,  as  in  Mle,  A^al'-mi-a,  ^aw,  ^eel,  kedge,  A;ind,  Mil,  cane, 
can,  car,  seeA;.     EcA'-o,  cAo'-rus,  ep'-ocA,  con'-g-uest. 

P,  as  in  joale,  joan'-el,  joar'-don,  joal'-sy,  ^ear,  joass,  peace, 
jt?est,  joine,  ^in,  pole,  joond,  ^oor,  ^u'-pil,  joun'-ish,  ^ul'-ley, 
poi'-son,  ^ound.  Hap'-py,  ^ip'-^in,  pup'-pet,  ra^'-id,  creep, 
grope. 

S,  as  in  sail,  sad,  star,  salt,  cor'-sair,  seal,  send,  slime,  slim 
sole,  sol-id,  stu'-por,  sub'-ject,  soil,  sound.  /Sin'-less,  sci'-ence. 
scene,  scAism.  * 

T,  as  in  ^ame,  i5an,  ^ar,  taW,  tekr,  task,  tear,  tent,  time,  till, 
tone,  ^op,  ^our,  ^une,  ^tirn.  2^i^'-ter,  ma^'-^er,  cri^'-ic,  debt, 
^aughif,  ^o'-^al. 

Th,  sharp,  as  in  ^Aane,  ^Aank,  ^Aink,  i^Aorn,  trti^A.  The'-o-vj, 
^Aank'-ful,  ^Aought'-ful,  ^Aink'-ing,  a'-^Ae-ist. 

Ch,  as  in  cAase,  cAat,  cAarm,  cAalk,  cAair,  cAeese,  cAest, 
cAime,  cAin,  cAore,  cAop,  cAoose,  cAurn.  Church,  hatcA,  marcA, 
satcA'-el,  toiicA'-ing. 

Sh,  as  in  sAade,  sAam,  sAarp,  sAare,  sAeep,  sAelf,  sAine,  sAin, 
sAoal,  sAot,  sAoot,  sAun.  GusA,  rusA,  sure,  o'-cean,  ac'-tion, 
raan'-sion,  cAev-a-lier',  cAam-paign'. 

Wh,  as  in  wha\e,  «^Aack,  whari,  where,  wheel,  whe\^,  whme, 
whW.    TFAeth'-er,  ^Aip'-ping,  i^Ais'-per,  tcAi'-ten. 

Exercise  V. — Miscellaneous  Suhtonic  and  Atonic  Combi- 
nations. 

1.  ^rave,  breathe,  breath ;  draw,  driit ;  j^ed,j^ounce ;  ^^en, 
^?ide ;  cleave,  cleit ;  crime,  crust. 

2.  P^ay, ^^ead;  pray, prove',  qu^\,  qwW',  sAriek,  sArink; 
screen,  scrawl ;  smite,  smote ;  speak,  space. 

3.  iS^^ice,  splash,  sp^unge;  spring,  spread;  sg'uib,  s^'uill, 
s^'uare ;  stream,  s^raw ;  threw,  throw,  thrift ;  ^A?^ack,  ^Ai^art ; 
^loeed,  twine. 

4.  Bar5,  cur  J,  hnlb;  urge,  dirge;  wolf,  self;  humph,  tri'- 
umph;  'punch,\un<ih;  harsh,  marsh ;  earl, -purl;  helm,^lm; 
prism,  rhjthm;  vamp,  clamp;  delve,  helve. 

5.  Act,  tact;  learnt,  hurnt;  firs^,  wors^,  thirsty  mos^,  lost; 
sent,  lent;  felt,  pelt. 


12 


ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING. 


6.  Ants^  waw^5/  ^Xilts^  wilts;  facts,  hr acts;  roasts,  toasts; 
dense,  fence;  necks,  decks;  loasks,  tasks;  cuffs,  ^uffs;  tenths, 
truths,  dep^Asy  twelfths. 

7.  Blacken,  slacken,  stoPn;  rbVd,  probed;  \ong''d,  ohWg^d, 
ur g^d;  hreath'd,  sheath'' d,  wreathed ;  o-^en'd ;  whelmed; 
hronz'd;  hiizz'd. 

8.  Frob^dst,  iprov^dst,  Wdst,  learn'dst,  charni'dst,  h]abb\Ist, 
dazzTdst,  ealVst. 

Exercise  VI. 
Faults  in  articulation  to  be  avoided : 

1.  The  suppression  of  a  sound;  as, 


an 

for   and 

go-in 

for 

go-in^. 

moun 

"    mounc?. 

raor-nin 

(( 

mor-nin^. 

des 

"    des^. 

trav'l 

(( 

trav-el. 

beas 

"    beasfo. 

ex-per 

(C 

ex-per^. 

2.  The  omission  of  a  syllable  ^ 

•  as 

> 

ev'ry 

for   ev-er-y. 

trav'ler 

for 

trav-el-er. 

sep'rate 

"    sep-a-rate. 

glor'us 

(( 

glo-r*-ous. 

num'rous 

"    nu-mer-ous. 

ob'slete 

(( 

ob-so-lete. 

lib'ry 

"    li-bra-ry. 

mem'ry 

(( 

mem-o-ry. 

3.  The  change  of  a  vowel  sound ;  as, 

bas-k^t 

for  bas-ket. 

^^p-prove 

for 

«^-prove. 

good-nzss 

"    good-ne55. 

w'm-der 

u 

w\n-dow. 

\\on-ust 

"    hon-6s^. 

hnn-durd 

cc 

\\\xn-dred. 

in-stwn^ 

"    in-stan^. 

sep-e-rate 

(( 

sep-a-rate. 

4.  Miscellaneous. 

wen 

for   when. 

i-dear 

for 

i-de-a. 

wat 

"    what. 

cawd 

a 

cord. 

wich 

"    which. 

neow 

(( 

now. 

warn 

"    warm. 

wortah 

(( 

wa-ter. 

The  blending  of  syllables  belonging  to  different  words. 
The  pure  ein  art,      instead  of  The  pure  in  heart. 
Two  small  legs,  "      Two  small  eggs. 

Ther  ris  sa  calm,  "      There  is  a  calm. 

Some  mice  scream,         "      Some  ice  cream. 


ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING.  13 

II.  ACCENT  AND  EMPHASIS. 

Accent  is  the  peculiar  force  of  voice  given  to  one  or  more 
syllables  of  a  word. 

The  accented  syllable  is  often  marked  thus  ' ;  as  in  win'- 
dow,  com-mu'-ni-cate. 

Most  words  of  three  or  more  syllables  have  two  syllables 
accented,  as  in  mul'-ti-pli-ca'^-tion.  The  more  forcible  stress 
of  voice  is  called  the  primary  accent,  and  the  less  forcible  is 
called  the  secondary  accent. 

Emphasis  is  a  forcible  stress  of  voice  upon  some  word  or 
words  in  a  sentence,  on  account  of  their  significancy  and  im- 
portance. Sometimes  it  merely  gives  prolonged  loudness  to 
a  word,  but  generally  the  various  inflections  are  connected 
with  it.  Thus  it  not  only  gives  additional /brce  to  language, 
but  the  sense  often  depends  upon  it. 

Examples. — I  did  not  say  he  struck  me' ;  I  said  he  struck  John\ 

I  did  not  say  he  struck  me ;  I  said  he  pushed  me. 

I  did  not  say  he  struck  me ;  I  said  John  did. 

I  did  not  scly  he  struck  me ;  hut  I  torote  it. 

i  did  not  say  he  struck  me^  but  John  said  he  did. 

He  that  can  not  bear  a  jest,  should  never  rnake^  one. 

It  is  not  so  easy  to  hide  one's  faults  as  to  mend  them. 

Cassius.  I  may  do  that  I  shall  he  sorry  for. 

Beutus.  You  have'^  done  that  you  shduld  be  sorry  for. 

Emphatic  words  are  usually  denoted  by  being  printed  in 
italics^  as  in  the  above  examples ;  but  when  the  emphasis  is 
designed  to  be  very  marked,  capitals  are  sometimes  used, 
thus:  To  arms!  To  arms!  TO  ARMS!  he  cried.  1  repeat 
it,  sir ;  we  must  FIGHT. 

HI.  INFLECTIONS. 

For  a  description  of  the  Inflections,  see  the.  Second  Read- 
er, page  vii. 

Rule  I. — Direct  questions,  or  those  that  can  be  answered 
by  yes  or  no,  generally  require  the  rising  inflection,  and  their 
answers  the  falling. 

ExAMPLKS.— Do  jHDu  think  he  will  come  to-day'?  No^ ;  T  think  he  will  not\ — Was 
that  Henry'?  No^ ;  it  was  John\ — Did  you  see  William'  ?  Yes\  I  did^ — Are  you  going 
to  town  to-day'?    No\  I  shall  go  to-morrow\ 


14         ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING. 

Rule  II.  —  The  pause  of  suspension^  denoting  that  the 
sense  is  unfinished,  such  as  a  succession  of  particulars  that 
are  not  emphatic^  cases  of  direct  address,  sentences  implying 
condition,  the  case  absolute,  etc.,  generally  requires  the  rising 
inflection. 

Examples, — John',  James',  and  William',  come  here The  great',  the  good',  the  hon- 
ored', the  noble',  the  wealthy',  alike  pass  away. 
Friends',  Romans',  countrymen',  lend  me  your  ears, 
Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Simon',  son  of  Jonas',  lovest  thou  me'  ? 

Ye  hills',  and  dales',  ye  rivers',  woods',  and  plains'. 
And  ye  that  live  and  move,  fair  creatures',  teir, 
Tell,  if  ye  saw,  how  came  I  thus^ :  how  here^  ? 
Note. — For  cases  m  which  emphatic  succession  of  particulars  modifies 
this  rule,  see  Rule  VIII. 

Rule  III. — Indirect  questions,  or  those  which  can  not  be 
answered  by  yes  or  no,  generally  require  the  falling  inflec- 
tion, and  their  answers  the  same. 

Examples. — When  did  you  see  him^  ?  Yesterday \ — When  will  he  come  again^  ?  To- 
morrow\ 

Who  say  the  people  that  I  am^  ?  They  answering,  said,  John  the  Baptist' ;  but  some 
sayEIias^;  and  others  say  that  one  of  the  old  prophets^  is  risen  again. 

Rule  IV. — A  completion  of  the  sense,  whether  at  the 
close  or  any  other  part  of  the  sentence,  requires  the  falling 
inflection. 

Examples.— He  that  saw  me'  saw  you  also^ ;  and  he  who  aided  me  once'  will  aid  me 
again\ 

In  the  beginning,  God  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth\  And  the  earth  was  without 
form,  and  void^ ;  and  darkness  was  on  the  face  of  the  deep' :  and  the  spirit  of  God  moved 
upon  the  face  of  the  waters  \ 

Note. — But  when  strong  emphasis,  with  the  falling  inflection,  comes 
near  the  close  of  a  sentence,  the  voice  often  takes  the  rising  inflection  at 
the  close. 

Examples, — If  William  does  not  come,  I  think  JoTvn>  wiU  be  here'. — If  he  should  come, 
whaV  would  you  do'  ? 

Cassius.  What  night  is  this  ? 

Casca.  a  very  pleasing  night  to  honesf"  men'. 

Proceed''^  I  am  attentive'. 

This  is  the  course  rather  of  our  enemies,  than  of  friends^  of  our  country's  liberty'. 

If  the  witness  does  not  believe  in  God,  or  a  future  state,  you  can  not  swear''  him'. 

Rule  V. — Words  and  clauses  connected  by  the  disjunctive 
or,  generally  require  the  rising  inflection  before  the  disjunct- 
ive, and  the  falling  after  it.  Where  several  words  are  thus 
connected  in  the  same  clause,  the  rising  inflection  is  given  to 
all  except  the  last. 


ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING.  15 

Examples — Will  you  go'  or  stay^  ?    I  will  go^ — "Will  you  go  in  the  buggy',  or  the  car- 
riage',  or  the  cars',  or  the  coach^  ?    I  will  go  in  the  cars^ 
He  may  study  law',  or  medicine',  or  divinity^ ;  or',  he  may  enter  into  trade\ 
The  baptism  of  John,  was  it  from  heaven',  or  of  men^  ? 
Did  he  travel  for  health',  or  for  pleasure'  ? 
Did  he  resemble  his  father',  or  his  mother^ 

Note  I. — When  the  disjunctive  or  is  made  emphatic,  with  the  falling 
inflection,  it  is  followed  by  the  rising  inflection,  in  accordance  with  the  note 
to  Rule  IV.;  as,  "He  miist  have  traveled  for  health,  or^  pleasure'." 

Examples. — He  must  either  work\  or^  study'. — He  must  be  a  mechanic,  or''  a  lawyer'. 
— He  must  get  his  living  in  one  way,  or''  the  other'. 

Note  II. — When  or  is  used  conjunctively,  as  no  contrast  is  denoted  by 
it,  it  requires  the  rising  inflection  after  as  well  as  before  it,  except  when 
the  clause  or  sentence  expresses  a  completion  of  the  sense. 

Examples. — Did  he  give  you  money',  or  food',  or  clothing'  ?   No\  he  gave  me  nothing\ 

Rule  YI. — When  negation  is  opposed  to  affirmation^  the 
former  takes  the  rising  and  the  latter  the  falling  inflection, 
in  whatever  order  they  occur.  Comparison  and  contrast 
(antithesis)  come  under  the  same  head. 

Examples. — I  did  not  hear  him',  I  saw  him\ — I  said  he  was  a  good  soldier\  not^  a  good 
citizen'.— He  Avill  not  come  to-day',  but  to-morrow\— He  did  not  call  me',  but  you\ — He 
means  dutifuP,  not  undutiful' I  come  to  hury  Caesar^  not  to  praise  him'. 

This  is  no  time  for  a  tribunal  of  justice',  but  for  showing  mercy^ ;  not  for  accusation', 
but  for  philanthropy^ ;  not  for  trial',  but  for  pardon^ ;  not  for  sentence  and  execution', 
but  for  compassion  and  kindness  \ 

Comparison  and  Contrast.— Homer  was  the  greater  genius',  Virgil  the  better  artist^ ; 
in  the  one  we  most  admire  the  man',  in  the  other  the  work\— There  were  tyrants  at 
home',  and  robbers  abroad'. 

By  honor'  and  dishonor^  by  evil  report' and  good  report^;  as  deceivers',  andyettrue\' 
as  unknown',  and  yet  well  known^ ;  as  dying',  and  behold  we  live^ ;  as  chastened',  and 
not  killed^ ;  as  sorrowful',  yet  always  rejoicing^ ;  as  poor',  yet  making  many  rich^ ;  as 
having  nothing',  yet  possessing  all  things\ 

When  our  vices  leave  us',  we  flatter  ourselves  we  leave  therm}. 

The  prodigal  robs  his  heir\  the  miser  robs  himself  \ 

Rule  YII. — For  the  sake  of  variety  and  harmony,  the  last 
pause  but  one  in  a  sentence  is  usually  preceded  by  the  rising 
inflection. 

Examples.— The  minor  longs  to  be  of  age^;  then  to  be  a  man  of  business^;  then  to  ar- 
rive at  honors' ;  then  to  retire'. 
Time  taxes  our  health',  our  limbs',  our  faculties',  our  strength',  and  our  features\ 

Rule  VIII. — 1st.  A  Commencing  Series. 

In  an  emphatic  series  of  particulars.,  where  the  series  be- 
gins the  sentence,  but  does  not  either  end  it  or  form  com- 
plete sense,  every  particular  except  the  last  should  have  the 
falling  inflection. 


16  ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING. 

Example — Our  disordered  heart8\  our  guilty  passions\  our  violent  prejudice8\  and 
misplaced  desires',  are  the  instruments  of  the  trouble  which  we  endure. 

Id.  A  Concluding  Series, 
When  the  series  ends  the  sentence,  or  forms  complete 
sense,  every  particular  in  the  series,  except  the  last  hut  one, 
should  have  the  falling  inflection;  and,  indeed,  a^^  should 
have  it,  if  the  closing  member  of  the  series  is  of  suflicient 
length  to  admit  a  pause  with  the  rising  inflection,  before  the 
end. 

Example. — Charity  sufiereth  long',  and  is  kind^ ;  charity  envieth  not^ ;  charity  vaunt-  . 
eth  not  itself^ ;  is  not  puffed  up^ ;  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly^ ;  seeketh  not  her 
own'^ ;  is  not  easily  prouo&ed' ;  thinketh  no  evil''. 

Rule  IX. — Expressions  of  ^6^c?6r  emotion, -such  as  grief, 
pity,  kindness,  gentle  joy,  a  gentle  reproof,  gentle  appeal, 
gentle  entreaty  or  expostulation,  etc.,  commonly  require  a 
gentle  rising  inflection. 

ExAMPLBS.— Mary'  I  Mary'  I  do^  not  do  so'. 

My  mother' !  when  I  learned  that  thou  wast  dead', 
Say\  wast  thou  conscious'  of  the  tears'  I  shed'  ? 
Hovered  thy  spirit  o'er  thy  sorrowing  son', 
W^retch  even  then',  life's  journey  just  begun'  ? 

I  would  not 'live  alway';  I  ask  not  to  stay, 

Where  storm  after  storm  rises  dark  o'er  the  way' ; 

I  would  not  live  alway,  thus  fettered  by  sin'; 

Temptation  without,  and  corruption  within' ; —  ■  , 

Is  your /afJier'  well',  the  old.  vnan'  of  whom  ye  spake'  ?    Is  hJ  yet  alive'  ? 

Rule  X. — Expressions  of  strong  emotion,  such  as  the  lan- 
guage of  exclamation  (not  designed  as'a  question),  authority, 
surprise,  distress,  denunciation,  lamentation,  earnest  entreaty, 
command,  reproach,  terror,  anger,  hatred,  envy,  revenge,  etc., 
and  strong  affirmation,  require  t\\Q  falling  inflection. 

Examples. — What  a  piece  of  work  is  man^ !  How  noble  in  reason^ !  how  infinite  in 
faculties^  1  in  action',  how  like  an  angeP !  in  apprehension',  how  like  a  God^ ! 

My  lords,  I  am  amazed'' ;  yes,  my  lords,  I  am  amazed''  at  his  Grace's  speech. 

Woe  unto  you  Pharisees^ !    Woe  unto  you  Scribes^  1 

You  blocks^  you  stones^  you  worse  than  senseless  things^ ! 

Go  to  the  ant\  thou  sluggard^ ;  consider  her  ways,  and  be  wi8e\ 

Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Mary'.     She  turned  herself,  and  said  unto  him,  Rahboni\ 

I  tell  you,  though  you'',  though  all  the  world'',  though  an  angel  from  heaven''  should  de- 
clare the  truth  of  it,  I  could  not  believe  it. 

I  dare^  accusation.    I  defy^  the  honorable  gentleman. 

I'd  rather  be  a  dog'',  and  bay  the  moon^,  than  such  a  Eoman'. 

Cas.  O  ye  aods^!  ye  god8\'  must  I  endure  all  this'  ? 

Bbu.  All  this  ?  ay\  and  more\ 


ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING.         17 

Note. — When  exclamatory  sentences  become  questions  they  require  the 
rising  inflection. 
Examples.— Tftoi  are  you  s&jing' I— Where  are  you  going' ! 
They  planted  by  your  care' !    No^ !  your  oppressions  planted  them  in  America\ 

THE   CIRCUMFLEX    OK   WAVE. 

Rule  XI. — Hypothetical  expressions,  sarcasm,  and  irony, 
and  sentences  hnplying  a  comparison  or  contrast  that  is  not 
fully*expressed,  often  require  a  union  of  the  two  inflections 
on  the  same  syllable. 

Explanation. — In  addition  to  the  rising  and  falling  inflections,  there 
is  what  is  called  the  circumjlex  or  wave,  which  is  a  union  of  the  two  on  the 
same  syllable.  It  is  a  significant  twisting  or  waving  of  the  voice,  general- 
ly first  downward  and  then  upward,  but  sometimes  the  reverse,  and  is  at- 
tended with  a  sensible  protraction  of  sound  on  the  syllable  thus  inflected. 
It  is  marked  thus :  (""")  as,  "I  may  possibly  go  to-morrow,  though  I  can 
not  go  to-day."     "I  did  it  myself,  sir.     Surprising^ !      You  did  it!" 

Examples. — If  the  righteous  scarcely  be  saved,  where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner 
appear  ? 
I  grant  you  I  was  down,  and  out  of  breath ;  and  so  was  he. 
And  but  for  these  vile  guns,  he  would  himself  have  been  a  soldier\ 
Queen.  Hamlet',  you  have  your  father  much  offended. 
Hamlet,  Madam',  y6u  have  my  father  much  offended. 
SirvLOCK.  If  it  will  feed  nothing  else,  it  will  feed  my  revenge. 
Hath  a  dog  money'  ?    Is  it  possible  a  ciir  can  lend  two  thousand  ducats'  ? 
They  tell  Us  to  be  moderate;  but  th&y,  tMy  are  to  revel  in  profusion. 
Y6u  pretend  to  reason'  ?    You  don't  so  much  as  know  the  first  elements  of  reasoning. 

Note. — A  nice  distinction  in  sense  sometimes  depends  upon  the  right 
use  of  the  inflections. 

Examples.—"  I  did  not  give  a  sixpence'." 
"  I  did  not  give  a  sixpence^" 

The  circumflex  on  sixpence  implies  that  I  gave  more  or  less  than  that 
sum  ;  but  the  falling  inflection  on  the  same  word  implies  that  I  gave  noth- 
ing at  all. 

"Hume  said  he  would  go  twenty  miles  to  hear  Whitefield  preach" 
(here  the  circumflex  implies  the  contrast),  "but  he  would  take  no  pains  to 
hear  an  ordinary^  preacher." 

"  A  man  who  is  in  the  daily  use  of  ardent  spirits,  if  he  does  not  become  a  drunkard\  is 
in  danger  of  losing  his  health  and  character." 

The  rising  inflection  on  the  closing  syllable  of  drunkard  would  pervert 
the  meaning  wholly,  and  assert  that,  in  order  to  preserve  health  and  char- 
acter, one  must  become  a  drunkard. 

"  The  dog  would  have  died  if  they  had  not  cut  off  his  head." 

"The  falling  inflection  on  died  would  make  the  cutting  off  his  head  neces- 
sary to  saving  his  life. 


18  ELEMENTS  OF  GOOD  READING. 

A  physician  says  of  a  patient,  "He  is  better\"  This  implies  a  positive 
amendment.  But  if  he  says,  "He  is  better',"  it  denotes  only  a  partial 
and  perhaps  doubtful  amendment,  and  implies,  "But  he  is  still  dangerpus- 
lysick." 

THE   MONOTONE. 

Rule  XII. — The  monotone^  which  is  a  succession  of  words 
on  the  same  key  or  pitch,  and  is  not  properly  an  inflection, 
is  often  employed  in  passages  of  solemn  denunciation,  sub- 
lime description,  or  expressing  deep  reverence  and  awe.  It 
is  marked  with  the  short  horizontal  dash  over  the  accented 
vowel.  1^^  It  must  not  be  mistaken  for  the  long  sound 
of  the  vowels,  as  given  in  the  Pronouncing  Key. 

Examples.— And  one  cried  unto  another,  and  said,  Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord  of 
hosts.    The  whole  earth  is  full  of  his  glory. 

Blessing,  honor,  glory,  and  p5wer  be  iinto  him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne,  and  to  the 
Lamb  forever  and  ever. 

In  thoughts  from  the  visions  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  on  men,  fear  came 
upon  me,  and  trembling  which  made  all  my  bones  to  shake.  Then  a  spirit  passed  before 
my  face ;  the  hair  of  my  flesh  stood  up.  It  stood  still,  but  I  could  not  discern  the  form 
thereof :  an  image  was  before  my  eyes,  there  was  silence,  and  I  heard  a  voice,  8a3ang, 
Shall  mortal  man  be  more  just  than  God  ?    Shall  a  man  be  more  pure  than  his  Maker  ? 

IV.  PRINCIPLES  OF  GENERAL  APPLICATION. 

The  first  and  most  important  is,  "Be  sure  you  understand  what  you 
read,  and  endeavor  to  express  the  sentiments  of  the  author  as  you  would 
express  the  same  if  they  were  your  own,  and  you  were  talking. ^^  No  one 
can  read  well  who  does  not  fully  adhere  to  this  principle. 

In  the  second  place,  those  who  would  excel  in  reading  should  cultivate 
every  manly  and  noble  virtue ;  for  no  one  can  fully  express  noble  senti- 
ments unless  he  feels  them.  Counterfeit  imitations  will  be  detected.  In 
the  language  of  Dr.  Blair:  "A  true  orator"  (and,  we  may  add,  a  correct 
and  effective  reader)  ' '  should  be  a  person  of  generous  sentiments,  of  warm 
feelings,  and  of  a  mind  turned  toward  the  admiration  of  all  those  great  and 
high  objects  which  mankind  are  naturally  forced  to  admire.  Joined  with 
the  manly  virtues,  he  should  at  the  same  time  possess  strong  and  tender 
sensibility  to  all  the  injuries,  distresses,  and  sorrows  of  his  fellow-creatures ; 
a  heart  that  can  readily  enter  into  the  circumstances  of  others,  and  make 
their  case  his  own.^' 


WILLSOFS  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


THIRD   READER. 


LESSON  I. 
What  Pictures  Teach. 


[Note — ^The  small  superior  figures  throughout  this  book  refer  to  the  Elocutionary 
Rules,  of  which  the  sentences  thus  marked  are  illustrations.  See  preceding  pages.  The 
small  superior  letters  refer  to  the  definitions  at  the  end  of  the  lesson.] 

1.  Is  not  this  a  beautiful  picture^?'  What  a 
fine,  round,  healthy,  and  noble  face  this  child  has^ !" 
How  bright  are  his  eyes^ !'"     His  hair  is  soft  and 


20  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

curling.     How  round   and  full  his   amis   areM'° 
They  are  almost  as  white  as  the  driven*  snow\ 

2.  Surely,  this  boy  is  the  very  picture  of  health 
and  childish  beauty.  His  franP  and  honest  face 
tells  us  that  he  is  happy.  How  much  we  can  read 
in  that  face^  V  He  must  have  kind  parents,  who 
love  him  dearly. 

3.  And  the  young  man — ^the  stranger,  who  so 
kindly  takes  the  hand  of  this  child — has  not  he  a 
fine  face  too^T  He  speaks  gently  to  the  child. 
You  can  see  that  in  his  very  face.  We  can  almost 
fancy''  that  we  hear  him  speak  words  of  kindness.^ 
He  has  not  an  angry  look.  His  face  shows  that 
he  is  a  good  young  man. 

4.  And  what  season  of  the  year  do  you  suppose 
it  is^  V  Is  it  summer',  or  is  it  winter^  f  How  can 
you  teir?'  Do  you  think  the  white  in  the  pic- 
ture is  snow'  f  Does  it  look  cold  and  cheerless® 
thereof 

5.  If  it  were  snow,  would  the  boy  be  barefoot'?' 
Would  his  arms  be  bare'  f  Would  he  be  without 
a  hat  or  a  cap  on  his  head'?'  Would  there  be 
grass,  and  leaves,  and  flowers  around  him,  if  it 
were  winter'?'  Would  he  look  so  cheei^Ql  and 
happy,  if  he  were  standing  barefoot  in  the  snow'  V 

6.  Have  you  ever  heard  the  cold  called  pinch- 
ing  cold'  V  Why  do  we  say  it  is  pinching  cold^  f 
Because  severe  cold  seems  to  pinch  up  the  face, 
and  the  hands,  and  all  the  parts  that  are  exposed^ 
to  the  chilly^  air.  Does  this  boy  look  as  though 
he  were  pinched  with  cold'  f  Does  not  his  open, 
cheerful,  sunny  face  show  that  it  is  summer-time'?' 


THIRD  READER  21 

7.  How  plainly  good  pictures  speak  to  usM'" 
How  mucli  they  show^ !'"  How  mucli  they  may 
teach  us,  if  we  will  study  them  weir  !"  They  tell 
a  whole  story  at  once^ ;  and  they  tell  it  in  such  a 
manner  that  it  always  interests  us.  They  tell  the 
story  so  that  we  can  see  it,  as  well  as  read  it ;  and 
what  we  see  we  do  not  easily  forget. 

8.  Children,  study  the  pictures  in  this  book,  and 
they  will  teach  you  many  a  useful  lesson.  Ask 
yourselves  as  many  questions  about  them  as  you 
can,  and  see  how  many  of  them  you  can  answer. 


*  Deiv'-en,  driven  by  the  wind ;  drifted. 
*'  Feank,  open ;  candid ;  undisguised. 
«=  Fam'-cy,  imagine ;  believe. 
^  Kind'-ness,  good-will ;  aflfection. 


e  Cheee'-less,  dreary  ;  gloomy, 
f  Ex-posed',  laid  open,  or  bare;  unprotect- 
ed: 
e  Chill'- Y,  somewhat  cold. 


[Lesson  I.  is  designed  to  show  what  may  be  learned  from  pictures : 
how  much  they  may  suggest  to  us,  etc.  Children  should  be  taught  to  ob- 
serve closely.  The  teacher  should  ask  the  pupils  numerous  questions 
about  the  pictures,  as  shown  in  the  foregoing  lesson.] 


LESSON  11. 
Acting   a   Lie. 

1.  "  Alfred^  how  could  you  tell  mother  that 
wrong  story^  ?"  said  Lucy  to  her  brother.  "  You 
know  you  did  eat  one  of  the  apples  that  were  in 
the  fruit- dish ;  yet  you  told  mother  you  did  notr 

2.  "Now\Lucy^,''''  I  did  not  tell  any  falsehood 
about  it  at  all\  You  know  mother  asked  me  if  I 
tooh  one  of  the  apples  from  the  dish\  and  I  said 
No\  And  that  wars  true^;  for  the  apple  rolled  off 
from  the  top  of  the  dish  when  I  hit  the  table,  and 
I  picked  it  up  from  the  floor.  Mother  did  not  ask 
me  if  I  ate  oneV  but  if  I  took  one  from  the  (Jish  .'• 


22  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

3.  "But  you  kiiow\  Alfred'/  what  mother 
meant^;  and  you  kaow  you  deceived}  her;-  and 
you  meant  to  deceive  her.  And  that  is  acting  a 
falsehood,  which  is  just  as  bad  as  telling  a  false- 
hood. If  mother  had  asked  you  if  you  had  eaten 
the  apple,  and  you  had  shaken  your  head,  would 
not  that  have  been  telling  a  falsehood'  V  Certain- 
ly it  would." 

4.  And  Lucy  was  right.  God  knows  what  we 
mean!^  as  well  as  wliat  we  say^.  Do  you  not  think 
an  a^ted  lie  is  as  wicked  in  his  sight  as  a  spoken 
lie'?'  And  do  you  not  think  that  Alfred's  con- 
science troubled  him'?'  You  should  never  act 
one  thing','  and  mean  another^, 

[Lesson  II.  illustrates  the  dishonest  character  of  Alfred,  and  the  truth-r 
fulness  of  his  sister.  It  shows  how  Alfred  told  a  falsehood — one  of  the 
white  lies  which  some  children  think  excusable,  and  how  his  sister  reproved 
him  for  it.  What  is  a  falsehood.  How  a  falsehood  may  be  acted  as  well 
as  spoken.     Suggest  other  examples.] 


LESSON  IIL 
The  Spakeow. 


The  Snow-bird.  The  Song-sparrow. 


1.  Who  form'd  the  little  sparrow," 
And  gave  him  wings  to  fly^  ?3 
Who  shields^  him  from  the  arrow, 
When  flying  in  the  sky^  1^ 


THIRD  READER.  23 

Our  Father,  God,  who  reigns  in  heaven, 
By  whom  are  all  our  blessings  given. 

2.  And  who  so  gently  leads  him 

Far  from  the  fowler's  snare^  P 
And  who  so  kindly  feeds  him. 

And  shows  such  tender  care^  P 
Our  Father,  God,  who  stoops  to  show 
His  grace*"  to  creatm-es  here  below. 

3.  And  who  a  dress  provides  him, 

So  beautiful  and  warm^  ?3 
Who  in  the  shelter  hides  him, 

Amid  the  raging  storm^  ?^ 
Our  Father,  God,  extends  his  care 
Through  heaven  and  earth,  and  sea,  and  air. 

4.  Does  God  full  many  a  favor 

To  little  sparrows  give'  ?i 
And  shall  we  not  endeavor** 

By  faith  in  him  to  live'  ?i 
Our  Father,  God,  who  reigns  above, 
Is  worthy  of  our  highest  love. 

*  Spae'-e5w,  a  small  bird.  I  <=  Gbace,  favor ;  goodness. 

••  Shields,  protects ;  defends  from  danger.    |  ^  En-deav'-ob,  strive  :  try. 

[Lesson  III.  shows  God's  care  over  even  so  small  a  creature  as  a  spar- 
row. Why  are  wings  given  to  the  little  birds  ?  To  enable  them  to  avoid 
danger,  to  feed  upon  insects  flying  in  the  air,  to  feed  upon  the  seeds  of 
■"plants,  etc.  What  kind  of  a  dress  birds  are  provided  with.  Its  adapta- 
tion to  their  wants.     Whi/  God  is  worthy  of  our  highest  love,  etc.] 


LESSON  IV. 
A  Kiss  for  a  Blow. 

1.  One  day  tlie  Rev.  Mr.  Adams  went  into  an 
infant-school  in  Boston.  He  had  been  there  be- 
fore, and  had  told  the  children  they  might  ask 
him  any  question  that  they  pleased,  whenever  he 
came  to  see  them. 


24  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES 

2.  "  Please  to  tell  us,"  said  a  little  boy, "  what 
is  meant  by  ovmxoming^  evil  with  goodly  The 
minister  began  to  explain  it,  when  a  little  inci- 
dent^ occurred,^  which  gave  him  the  best  explana- 
tion he  could  wish. 

8.  A  boy  about  seven  years  of  age  was  sitting 
beside  his  little  sister,  who  was  only  six  years  old. 
As  the  minister  was  talking,  George,  for  that  was 
the  boy's  name,  got  angry  with  his  sister  about 
something,  doubled  up  his  fist,  and  struck  her  on 
the  head. 

4.  The  little  girl  was  just  going  to  strike  him 
back  again,  when  the  teacher,  seeing  it,  said,  "  My 
dear  Mary,  can't  you  kiss  your  brother^  ?  See  how 
angry  and  unhappy  he  looks\" 

5.  Mary  looked  at  her  brother.  He  looked  sul- 
len and  wretched.  Her  resentment"^  was  soon 
gone,  and  love  for  her  brother  returned  to  her 
heart.  She  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck,  and 
kissed  him. 

6.  The  poor  boy  was  wholly  unprepared  for  so 
kind  a  return  for  his  blow.  He  could  not  resist 
the  gentle  affection  of  his  sister.  He  was  wholly 
overcome,  and  he  burst  into  tears,  sobbing  vio- 
lently. 

7.  His  gentle  sister  took  the  corner  of  her 
apron  and  wiped  away  his  tears,  and  sought  to 
comfort  him  by  saying,  "  Don't  cry,  George ;  you 
did  not  hurt  me  much."  But  he  only  wept  the 
more.  No  wonder:  it  was  enough  to  make  any 
body  weep. 

8.  But  why  did  George  weep^  \     Poor  little  fel- 


THIRD  READER. 


26 


lowM  Would  lie  liave  wept  if  his  sister  had 
struck  him  in  return^  ?  Not  he.  But  by  kissing 
him  as  she  did,  she  made  him  feel  more  deeply 
than  if  she  had  beaten  him  black  and  blue. 

9.  Here  was  a  Mss for  a  blow — love  for  anger; 
and  all  the  school  saw  at  once  what  was  meant  by 
"  overcoming  evil  with  goodP 


^  0-ver-c6m'-ing,  conquering ;  gaining  the 

mastery  over. 
^  In'-ci-dejst,  event :  occurrence. 


<=  Oo-otjk'reb,  happened ;  took  place. 

<i  Re-sent'-ment,  anger  from  being  -wrong- 


[Lesson  IV.  very  happily  illustrates,  in  the  incident  of  "a  kiss  for  a 
blow,"  the  principle  of  overcoming  evil  loith  good.  The  teacher  can  prob- 
ably give  other  examples  illustrating  the  same  principle.  It  was  one  of 
the  precepts  of  the  Savior,  "  If  a  man  smite  thee  on  the  one  cheek,  turn  to 
him  the  other  also."] 


LESSON  Y. 
The  Young  Galley-slave. 

1.  A  young  man  was  recently  condemned,  for 
some  offense,  to  serve''  at  the  galleys  in  one  of  the 
sea-ports  of  France.  Such  persons  are  called  galr 
ley-slaveSj  and  their  punishment  is  to  serve  as  oars- 
men on  board^  of  a  galley,  or  large  government 
boat. 

2.  The  young  man  here  referred  to  seized  the 
first  opportunity,  which  occurred  at  night,  to  run 
away.  Being  strong  and  vigorous,  he  soon  made 
his  way  across  the  country,  and  escaped  pursuit. 

3.  Arriving  the  next  morning  before  a  peasant's 
cottage  in  an  open  field,  he  stopped  to  beg  some- 
thing to  eat,  and  find  a  refuge""  while  he  reposed*^ 
a  little.  But  he  found  the  innfates  of  the  cottage 
in  the  greatest  distress.     Four  little  children  sat 

B 


1 


26  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES! 

trembling  in  a  corner — their  mother  was  weeping, 
and  the  father  was  walking  the  floor  in  agony.® 

4.  The  young  galley-slave  asked  what  was  the 
matter,  and  the  father  replied  that  they  were  that 
morning  to  be  turned  out  of  doors,  because  they 
could  not  pay  their  rent. 

5.  "  You  see  me  driven  to  despair,"  said  the  fa- 
ther; "my  wife  and  little  children  will  soon  be 
without  food  and  shelter,  and  I  am  without  the 
means  to  provide  any  for  them."  As  the  convict^ 
listened  to  this  tale,  the  tears  started  in  his  eyes. 

6.  "  I  will  give  you  the  means  to  provide  for 
your  family,"  he  then  said.  "  I  have  but  just  es- 
caped from  the  galleys ;  and  whoever  secures  and 
"takes  back  an  escaped  prisoner  will  receive  a  re- 
ward^ of  fifty  francs.  How  much  does  your  rent 
amount  to  ?"' 

"  Forty  francs,"  answered  the  father. 

7.  "  Well,"  said  the  other,  "  put  a  cord  around 
my  body.  I  will  follow  you  to  the  city:  they 
will  recognize^  me,  and  you  will  get  fifty  francs 
for  bringing  me  back." 

8.  "  No,  never !" '°  exclaimed  the  astonished  lis- 
tener. My  children  should  starve  a  dozen  times 
before  I  would  do  so  base  a  thing !" 

9.  But  the  generous  young  man  insisted,  and 
declared  at  last  that  he  would  go  and  give  him- 
self up,  if  the  father  would  not  consent  to  take 
him.  After  much  hesitation  the  latter  yielded, 
and,  taking  his  preserver  by  the  arm,  led  him  to 
the  city,  and  to  the  mayor's  office. 

10.  Every  body  was  surprised  that  a  little  man, 


THIRD  READER. 


27 


like  the  peasant,  had  been  able  to  capture  snch  a 
strong  young  fellow:  but  the  proof  was  before 
them.  The  fifty  francs  were  paid,  and  the  prison- 
er was  sent  back  to  the  galleys. 

11.  After  he  had  gone,  the  peasant  asked  to  see 
the  mayor  in  private,  and  told  him  the  whole  story. 
The  mayor  was  so  much  affected  that  he  not  only 
added  fifty  francs  to  the  peasant's  purse,  but  wrote 
to  the  Minister  of  Justice,  begging  the  young  pris- 
oner's release. 

12.  The  minister  examined  into  the  affair,  and, 
finding  that  the  young  man  had  been  condemned 
to  the  galleys  for  a  small  offense,  and  that  he  had 
already  served  out  half  of  his  time,  ordered  his  re- 
lease. 

13.  "Was  not  this  a  noble  deed  of  self-denial  and 
charity  on  the  part  of  the  young  man^  V  And  it 
not  only  benefited'  others^/  but  it  benefited  him- 
self^ also.  Can  you  explain  how  it  benefited  him- 
self?^ 


"  Serve,  work  ;  labor. 

''  Board,  deck  of  a  ship. 

<=  Ref'-xtge,  shelter  from  danger. 

^  Re-posed',  rested;  slept. 

«  Ag'-o-ny,  great  distress. 


f  Con'-yict,  a  person  found  guilty  of  » 

crime, 
s  Re-wakd',  pay  for  services. 
^  Rec'-06-nize,  know ;  recollect. 
'  Ben'-e-fit-ed,  did  good  to ;  profited. 


[Lesson  V.  is  a  lesson  on  character.  It  shows  the  great  generosity  and 
noble-heartedness  of  the  young  galley-slave,  when  he  knew  that  his  kind- 
ness to  another  would  consign  him  again  to  a  prison.  How  his  conduct 
was  rewarded.  How  were  the  mayor  and  minister  benefited  ?  Who  was 
most  benefited?  (The  galley-slave.)  Why?  How  are  you  benefited  by 
reading  this  story  ?] 


A  kindness  is  never  lost. 
To  be  happy,  you  must  be  good. 
Do  what  you  ought,  come  what  may. 
Merit  will  surely  meet  with  a  reward. 


28 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  VI. 
Night  and  Day. 

1.  The  world  is  round,  and,  like  a  ball, 
Seems  swinging  in  the  air ; 

A  sky  extends*  around  it  all, 
And  stars  are  shining  there. 

2.  Water  and  land  upon  the  face 
Of  this  round  world  we  see ; 

The  land  is  man's  safe  dwelling-place. 
But  ships  sail  on  the  sea. 

3.  As  the  light  of  the 
sun  makes  the  day,  when 
the  sun  sets  it  is  even- 
ing, which  is  soon  follow- 
ed by  the  darkness  of 
night. 

4.  But  when  it  is  night 
here,  is  it  night  in  all 
parts  of  the  world  V  No : 
it  is  then  day  in  some 

places ;  and  when  we  see  the  sun  setting,  others,  in 
a  distant^  part  of  the  world,  see  it  rising.  Our 
evening  is  their  morning,  and  our  midnight  is  their 
noonday. 

5.  Would  you  know  the  cause*"  of  these  changes?' 
The  earth  is  a  large  globe  or  balP ;  and  it  turns 
over,  from  west  to  east,  once  in  every  twenty-four 
hours\  at  one  time  carrying  us  toward  the  sun^, 
and  at  another  time  carrying  us  away  from  it. 

6.  When  we  are  carried  toward  the  sun',  it  is 
the  early  part  of  the  day  to  us^ ;  and  when  we  are 


THIRD  READER.  29 

carried  away  from  it',  the  sun  seems  to  go  down — 
down  —  until  it  sets  in  the  west,  and  at  length 
night  comes  upon  us.  The  sun  seems  to  us  to  go 
round  the  earth ;  but  it  does  not. 

7.  While  we  are  on  the  side  of  the  earth  toward 
the  sun,  there  are  other  people  who  are  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  earth,  where  it  is  night ;  and 
when  we  see  the  sun  rising  in  our  east',  others  see 
it  setting  in  thei7'  west\ 

8.  The  suD,  to  us,  is  setting  now^  ;^ 

Behold  him  in  the  west^  ;* 
And  soon  the  busy  people  here 
In  sleep  will  take  their  rest. 

9.  In  other  countries,  far  awayV 

The  day  begins  to  break^  ','^^ 
And  while  we  sleep',^  the  people  there 
Will  from  their  slumbers  wake. 

10.  But  when  the  sun  comes  round  again. 
And  lights  the  eastern  skies',^ 
The  evening  will  begin  with  ^Aem\* 
And  we  from  sleep  will  rise. 

•  Ex-tends',  stretches  out ;  reaches.  l  <=  Catjse,  that  which  produces. 

'•  Dis'-TANT,  remote;  far  away.  |  ^  To  beeak,  to  dawn. 

[Lesson  VI.  explains,  in  a  familiar  way,  some  of  the  first  principles  in 
Geography.  The  earth  is  a  globe  or  ball,  divided  into  land  and  water,  and 
surrounded  by  the  air,  sky,  and  stars.  What  causes  day  and  night,  morn- 
ing and  evening,  etc.] 


God  is  seej^^  in  eveey  Thing. 
In  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  sky, 
On  the  mountains  wild  and  high, 
In  the  thunder,  in  the  rain. 
In  the  grove,  the  wood,  the  plain, 
In  the  little  birds  which  sing — 
God  is  seen  in  every  thine:. 


30  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  YII. 
The  Snow-stoem. 

1.  How  cold  the  blast  I^o    The  snow  falls  fast, 

And  yet  I  hope  'twill  stay : 
The  wind  doth  blow  the  falling  snow, 
In  meadows  far  away. 

2.  Jack  Frost  is  near,  we  feel  him  here, 

He's  on  his  icy  sled ; 
And  covered  deep,  the  flowers  sleep 
Beneath  their  snowy  bed. 

3.  Come  out  and  play,  this  winter  day, 

Amid  the  falling  snow ; 
Come  young  and  old,  nor  fear  the  cold, 
Nor  howling  winds  that  blow. 

[Lesson  VII.  is  a  description  of  a  snow-storm.    The  cold  of  winter. 
Invitation  to  come  out  and  play.] 


LESSON  YIII. 
A  King  Reproved. 

1.  A  Mng,  riding  along  in  disguise,^  and  seeing 
a  soldier  at  the  door  of  a  public  house,  stopped 
and  asked  the  soldier  to  drink  with  him.  While 
they  were  talking,  the  king  swore. 

The  soldier  said,  "  Sir,  I  am  sorry  to  hear  a  gen- 
tleman swear." 

His  majesty^  took  no  notice  of  the  remark,  and 
soon  swore  again. 

2.  The  soldier  then  said,  "  Sir,  I  will  pay  my 
part,  if  you  please,  and  go ;  for  I  dislike''  swearing. 
If  you  were  the  king  himself,  I  should  tell  you 
of  it." 


THIRD  READER,  31 

"  Should  you,  indeed  ?" '  said  the  king. 
"  I  should,"  said  the  soldier. 

3.  His  majesty  said  no  more,  but  left  him.  A 
while  after,  the  king  having  invited  some  of  his 
lords  to  dine  with  him,  the  soldier  was  sent  for; 
and,  when  they  were  at  dinner,  the  soldier  was  or- 
dered into  the  room  to  wait  awhile.  Presently 
the  king  uttered^  an  oath.  The  soldier  immedi- 
ately, but  with  great  modesty,  said, 

"  Should  not  my  lord,  the  king,  fear  an  oath  ?'" 

4.  The  king,  looking  first  at  the  lords,  and  then 
at  the  soldier,  said : 

"There,  my  lords,  is  an  honest  man.  He  can 
respectfully  remind  me  of  the  great  sin  of  swear- 
ing; but  you  can  sit  by,  and  let  me  take  God's 
name  in  vain,  and  not  so  much  as  tell  me  of  it." 

5.  Children,  remember  the  commandment,  "Thou 
shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God  in 
vain;  for  the  Lord  will  not  hold  him  guiltless 
that  taketh  his  name  in  vain." 

^  Dis-gtti$e',  false  appearance.  I  <*  L't'-tered,   pronounced  ;    expressed  in 

*"  Ma'-je8-ty,  title  of  a  monarch.  language. 

=  Dis-like',  hate;  disapprove.  | 

[Lesson  VIII.  This  is  another  lesson  on  character.  A  king  is  re- 
proved for  profane  swearing.  The  honesty  and  moral  courage  of  the  sol- 
dier are  in  marked  contrast  with  the  servile  conduct  of  the  lords,  w^ho  do 
not  appear  to  have  shown,  in  any  manner,  their  disapproval  of  profanity.] 


LESSON  IX. 
Tkue   Duncan. 

1.  There  was  a  little  boy  in  our  school  named 
Duncan.  All  called  him  True  Duncan^  because  he 
never  would  tell  a  lie. 


32  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

2.  One  day  he  was  playing  witli  an  ax  in  the 
yard  of  the  school,  and  while  he  was  chopping  a 
stick,  the  teacher's  little  kitten  came  along. 

3.  Duncan  accidentally*  let  the  ax  fall  on  the 
kitten's  head,  and  killed  her. 

4.  What  to  do,  Duncan  did  not  know.  The  kit- 
ten was  a  pet^  of  the  master,  and  used  to  sit  on  a 
cushion  at  his  side  while  he  was  hearing  the  les- 
sons. 

5.  Duncan  stood  and  looked  at  the  dead  crea- 
ture. His  face  grew  very  red,  and  the  tears  filled 
his  eyes. 

6.  All  the  boys  came  running  up,  and  every  one 
had  something  to  say.  One  of  them  whispered  to 
the  others,  and  said, 

7.  "  Now,  boys,  we  shall  see  if  Duncan  can  tell  a 
fib  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us." 

8.  "Not  heM"  said  little  Thomas  Wilson,  who 
was  Duncan's  friend.  "  Not  he^ !  I'll  warrant  you. 
Duncan  will  be  as  true  as  gold." 

9.  John  Jones  stepped  up,  and,  taking  the  kitten 
by  the  tail,  said,  "  Here,  boys,  I'll  just  fling  her  into 
the  alley,  and  we  can  tell  Mr.  Cole  that  the  butch- 
er's dog  killed  her.  You  know  he  caught  her  and 
hurt  her  last  week." 

10.  Several  of  them  thought  this  would  do  very 
well;  but  Duncan  looked  quite  angry.  His  face 
swelled,  and  his  cheeks  grew  redder  than  before. 

11."  NoM"  said  he, "  no' !  Do  you  think  I  would 
lie  for  such  a  creature  as  that^  ?  It  would  be  a  lie, 
a  LIE,  a  LIE  !"  And  every  time  he  said  the  word, 
his  voice  grew  louder  and  louder. 


THIRD  READER.  gg 

12.  Tben  lie  picked  up  the  poor  thing  in  Ms 
arms,  and  carried  it  into  the  school-room ;  and  the 
boys  followed  to  see  what  would  happen. 

13.  The  master  looked  up,  and  said,  "What  is 
this^  ?  My  faithful  kitten  dead' !  Who  could  have 
done^  this  ? 

14.  All  were  silent  for  a  little  while.  As  soon 
as  Duncan  could  get  his  voice,  he  said,  "  Mr.  Cole, 
I  am  very  sorry,  but  here  is  the  truth.  I  will  not 
tell  a  lie,  sir.  I  killed  the  kitten.  But  I  am  very 
sorry  for  it.  It  was  an  accident ;  but  I  ought  to 
have  been  more  carefal.  I  am  very  sorry,  indeed, 
sir." 

15.  The  boys  expected''  that  Mr.  Cole  would  take 
down  his  long  ratan.  But  he  put  on  a  pleasant 
smile,  and  said, 

16.  "  Duncan,  you  are  a  brave  boy !  I  saw  and 
heard  all  that  passed,^  from  my  window  above.  I 
would  rather  lose  a  hundred  kittens,  than  miss  such 
an  example  of  truth  and  honor  in  my  school. 

17.  "Your  best  reward  is  what  you  now  feel  in 
your  own  conscience ;  but  I  beg  you  to  accept  this 
handsome  penknife  as  a  token^  of  my  approbation."^ 

18.  Duncan  took  out  his  handkerchief,  and  wiped 
his  eyes.  The  boys  could  no  longer  restrain  them- 
selves ;  and  when  Thomas  Wilson  cried,  "  Three 
cheers  for  True  Duncan,"  all  joined  in  a  hearty 
hurrah. 

19.  The  teacher  then  said,  "My  boys,  I  am  glad 
you  know  what  is  right,  and  that  you  approve  of 
it ;  though  I  am  afraid  some  of  you  would  not  have 
done  as  Duncan  did. 

B2 


34 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


20.  ^'  Learn,  from  this  time,  that  notMng  can 
make  a  falsehood  necessary.  Suppose  Duncan  had 
taken  your  evil  advice,  and  had  come  to  me  with 
a  lie :  it  would  have  been  instantly  detected,^  for 
I  was  a  witness  of  what  passed. 

21.  "I  trust  Duncan  has  been  governed^  in  this 
by  a  sense  of  right,  and  I  exhort'  you  all  to  follow^ 
his  example.  He  is  a  brave  boy  who  at  all  times 
dares  to  do  right.     A  lie  is  always  cowardly." 


■  Ao-ca-DENT'-AL-LT,  without  design  ;  l>y 
chance. 

^  Pet,  any  little  animal  fondled  and  in- 
dulged. 

e  Ex-pect'-ed,  thought ;  believed. 

^  Passed,  occurred ;  took  place. 


^  To'-KEN,  mark ;  evidence ;  sign. 

^  Ap-pbo-ba'-tion,  approval. 

^  De-tect'-ei),  discovered;  exposed. 

^  Gov'-eened,  influenced. 

■  Ex-hobt',  urge ;  earnestly  advise. 

J  Fol'-low,  imitate. 


[Lesson  IX.  This  is  a  lesson  on  character.  The  story  of  "  True  Dun- 
can" is  an  illustration  of  truthfulness  and  honor  on  the  part  of  a  little  boy, 
who  was  urged  by  his  companions  to  tell  a  falsehood  to  shield  himself  from 
anticipated  punishment.     Why  is  a  lie  always  cowardly .«'] 


LESSON  X. 
Riding  against  the  Wind. 


1.  Can  you  tell  me  what  this  is  a  picture  of^  V 
Why  does  the  man  ride  in  that  manner^?'     Why 


THIRD  READER.  35 

does  lie  lean''  forward  so^f  Wliy  is  his  hat  drawn 
down  over  liis  face^f  Can  lie  see  as  well  when  his 
hat  is  over  his  eyes^  V 

2.  You  can  see  that  it  is  a  windy  day.  Can  you 
tell  which  way  the  wind  blows^?'  How  can  you 
teirf  Do  you  see  how  the  wind  blows  the  hair 
of  the  horse's  tedW  The  wind  blows  strong  in  the 
man's  face.  Perhaps  it  rains,  also.  Perhaps  it  is 
very  cold. 

3.  Do  you  see  how  the  man  braces^  himself 
against  the  wind^  V  If  he  should  sit  up  straight, 
could  he  ride  just  as  welF?  If  he  should  not  pull 
his  hat  over  his  face,  what  do  you  think  would  be- 
come of  his  hat^  f 

4.  The  man's  hat  keeps  the  wind  and  the  rain 
out  of  his  face.  Now  the  hat  will  not  be  blown 
away.  Now  the  man  sits  easy  on  the  horse.  He 
will  not  fall. 

5.  But  why  are  the  horse's  ears  turned  back^?' 
Because,  if  they  were  not  turned  back,  the  wind 
would  blow  into  them,  and  the  rain  would  heat  into 
them,  and  that  would  not  be  pleasant.  The  horse 
knows  what  to  do  with  his  ears,  to  keep  the  wind 
and  the  rain  out  of  them. 

6.  If  the  wind  blew  against  the  back  of  the  man, 
would  he  sit  in  that  manner'?'  How  would  he 
sit^f  How  would  he  put  his  hat  on^?'  How 
would  the  horse  turn  his  ears^?'  Would  the  hairs 
of  the  horse's  tail  look  as  they  do  now'  V 

7.  What  a  change  would  be  made  in  the  picture, 
if  the  wind  should  change^ ! "  The  man,  the  horse, 
and  the  clouds  would  all  be  changed\    Kthe  wind 


36  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIEa 

should  blow  against  the  man's  back,  can  you  tell 
Tiow  the  picture  would  be  changed?  Very  much 
depends,  in  this  world,  upon  which  way  the  wind 
blows. 

"  Lean,  bend ;  incline.  |  ''  Bea'-oes,  supports,  by  leaning  forward. 

[Lesson  X.  is  another  illustration  of  how  much  may  be  told  by  a  very 
simple  picture.  It  furnishes  good  examples  of  object  teaching.  Let  the 
teacher  ask  the  pupil  additional  questions  about  the  picture.  An  import- 
ant moral  is  suggested  at  the  close  of  the  lesson.  Many  people  go  just  as 
the  wind  blows — that  is,  they  move  along  with  the  current  of  public  opin- 
ion.] 


LESSON  XI. 
The   Creation. 

1.  'Twas  God  who  made  this  world  so  fair, 
The  shining  sun,  the  sky,  the  air; 

'Twas  God  who  made  the  sea,  the  ground. 
And  all  the  things  we  see  around. 

2.  When  He  began  this  world  to  make. 
These  are  the  mighty  words  he  spake  : 

"  Let  there  be  light^ !"  ^^     His  voice  was  heard. 
And  then  the  light  of  day  appeared. 

3.  The  angels  saw  the  light  arise. 

And  with  their  praises  filled  the  skies : 

"  How  great  our  God^ !    How  wise^ !    How  strongM"^^ 

Such  is  their  never-ending  song. 

[Lesson  XI.  is  a  simple  hymn,  descriptive  of  the  Creation.     See  Gen- 
esis, i.,  3.] 


LESSON  XIL 

God  has  Counted  All. 

1.  Knowest  thou  how  many  stars 
There  are  shining  in  the  sky'?^ 
Knowest  thou  how  many  clouds 
Every  day  go  floating  by'  ?^ 


THIRD  READER  37 

God,  the  Lord,  has  counted  all ; 
He  would  miss  one,  should  it  fall. 

2.  Knowest  thou  how  many  flies 

There  are  sporting  in  the  sun'?^ 
How  many  fishes  in  the  water'  ?^ 

God  has  counted  every  one. 
Every  one  he  called  by  name 
When  into  the  world  it  came. 

3.  Knowest  thou  how  many  children 

Close  their  eyes  in  sleep  at  night, 
And  without  a  care  or  trouble 

Wake  up  with  the  morning  light  ?^ 
God  in  heaven  each  name  can  tell ; 
Knows  thee  too',  and  loves  thee  well. 

[Lesson  XII.  illustrates  God's  omniscience,  or  knowledge  of  all  things. 
We  are  told  in  the  Bible  that  even  "the  hairs  of  our  heads"  are  all  num- 
bered by  him;  and  that  "a  sparrow  can  not  fall  to  the  ground  without 
his  notice."] 


LESSOIST  XIII. 
A  Bargain  is  a  Baegain-. 

1.  "A  bargain  is  a  bargain\"  said  Jolin  Smith, 
who  had  just  bought  a  knife  of  Willie  Reed,  and 
given  him  a  kite  for  it.  But  Willie  soon  found 
that  the  kite  was  broken\  and  wished  to  trade 
back  again\  ^^I  shall  not  do  it\"  said  John.  ^^  You 
did  not  ask  me  if  the  kite  was  broken^;  and  do  you 
think  I  would  be  so  foolish  as  to  tell  you  of  it^  V 
NoM'"     A  bargain  is  a  bargain." 

2.  Yes,  so  it  was  a  bargain\  but  a  very  unfair* 
one.  John  deceived^  Willie^;  and  if  he  did  not  tell 
a  falsehood\  he  acted^  one^  Don't  you  think  the 
knife  he  got  in  that  way  will  be  apt  to  cut  his 
fingers^  f 


38  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

3.  As  George  Davis  and  Charley  Brown  were 
on  their  way  to  school  one  day,  Charley  took  out 
of  his  basket  a  nice  large  cake  which  his  mother 
had  given  him  for  his  dinner.  George  offered  him 
a  large  red  apple  for  it.  "Is  it  a  good  apple^?"' 
asked  Charley.  "Do  you  think  I  would  take  a 
poor  apple  to  school  for  my  dinner^?"  asked 
George.  "  I  tell  you  it  is  a  real  juicy  apple\  for  I 
know  the  tree  on  which  it  grew\"  So  Charley  let 
him  have  his  cake  for  the  apple. 

4.  At  noon,  when  Charley  tasted  his  apple,  he 
found  it  was  so  sour  that  he  could  not  eat  it,  and 
he  wished  to  trade  back  again.  "No\"  said  George, 
"  I  don't  trade  back.     A  bargain  is  a  bargain." 

5.  So  it  ivas  a  bargain\  George  Davis'".  But 
what  Mnd  of  a  bargain  was  it^?'  You  cheated 
Charley\  and  you  hnew  it\  and  you  meant  to  do 
it\  You  are  not  an  honest  boy\  and  it  was  not  a 
fail'  trade\  I  should  not  wonder  if  the  cake 
should  choke  you  when  you  eat  it. 

6.  Mr.  Jones  went  out  to  buy  a  horse.  He  found 
one  that  he  liked,  and  that  the  owner  wished  to 
selP;  but  he  determined  to  purchase  him,  if  possi- 
ble, for  less  than  he  was  worth.  The  owner  asked 
a  hundred  dollars  for  him. 

7.  "What  is  the  age  of  your  horse^?"  "Eight 
years  old, I  believe,"  said  the  man.  "That  is  what 
the  person  from  whom  I  bought  him  told  me^" 
"  Eight  years  old'  V  Why\  he  is  certainly  more 
than  twelve^.     See  how  his  teeth  are  worn  down." 

8.  The  owner  could  not  be  positive''  as  to  his 
age.     "And  besidesV  said  Mr.  Jones,  "he  seems 


THIRD  READER.  '  39 

a  little  stiff  in  the  joints\  He  carries  Ms  head 
badly\  and  is  too  hard  upon  the  bit\  and  I  don't 
like  the  eolor\  If  he  were  a  bright  bay^,  I  would 
give  much  more^  for  him.  I  am  willing  to  pay  all 
he  is  worth^,  but  I  can  not  think  of  offering  you 
more  than  seventy-five  dollars\" 

9.  Thus  he  cheapens*^  the  animal  as  much  be- 
low his  real  worth  as  he  can.  The  owner  can  not 
afford  to  keep  the  horse.  He  is  in  want  of  money, 
and  must  take  what  he  can  get.  So  Mr.  Jones  buys 
the  horse  for  seventy-five  dollars ;  but  when  he  has 
taken  the  horse  home^,  he  boasts  what  a  good  bar- 
gain he  has  made\ 

10.  A  man  very  much  like  Mr.  Jones  is  described 
in  the  Book  of  Proverbs,  the  twentieth  chapter,  and 
fourteenth  verse :  "  It  is  naught,^  it  is  naught,  saith 
the  buyer ;  but  when  he  is  gone  his  way^,  then  he 
boasteth\" 

11.  "I  would  not  sell  that  horse  for  one  hund- 
red and  fifty  dollars,"  says  Mr.  Jones.  "  He  is  of 
the  right  age,  and  just  what  I  want.  I  am  suited^ 
with  him  in  every  respect." 

12.  *^  But  how  cheap  you  bought  him\  Mr.  Jones^ 
Did  not  you  cheat  the  man'  ?'" 

"  Cheat  him^ !'"  Oh  no^ !  A  bargain  is  a  bargain. 
Every  one  must  look  out  for  himself  \  you  know." 

13.  But,  Mr.  Jones,  were  you  honest  when  you 
told  the  owner  that  the  horse  was  certainly  twelve 
years  old^  f  Did  not  you  like  the  color  of  the 
horse^^  f  Were  you  willing  to  pay  all  he  was 
worth  to  you^  f  Ah,  Mr.  Jones^,'^  I  am  afraid  that 
will  be  a  hard-backed  horse  for  you  to  ride\ 


40  WICLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

14.  And  then,  again,  lie  is  so  stiff  in  tlie  joints 
that  he  may  stumble,  and  throw  you.  Or,  what  is 
still  worse^,  he  is  so  hard  upon  the  bit  that  he  may 
run  away^  with  you.  Are  you  not  sorry  that  you 
bought  so  bad  a  horse',  Mr.  Jones'  ? 


^  Cheap'-ens,  lessens  the  value, 
e  Naught,  nothing ;  worth  nothing, 
f  SOix'-ED,  pleased. 
10  See  Note  to  Rule  X.  2  Kule  n.,  direct  address. 


*  Un-faie',  not  honest ;  not  just 
'*  De-oeiv'ed,  misled ;  cheated. 

*  Pos'-I'TIve,  certain. 


[Lesson  XIII.  Another  lesson  on  character.  There  are  two  exam- 
ples of  cheating,  on  the  part  of  John  Smith  and  George  Davis ;  and  a  case 
of  more  open  falsehood,  but  not  less  dishonesty,  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Jones. 
Did  these  persons  act  fairly  in  making  bargains?  Did  they  act  honestly  f 
Did  they  obey  the  Golden  Rule  ?] 


LESSON  XIY. 
The  Thunder -stoem. 

1.  LooF  !^o  the  black  cloud  rises  high  ; 
Now  it  spreads*  along  the  sky : 
SeeM^°  the  quivering^  lightnings  fly: 

Hark^  I^o  the  thunders  roar. 

2.  Yet  I  will  not  shrink*'  with  fear 
When  the  thunder-clap*^  I  hear ; 
Soon  the  rainbow  will  appear, 

Soon  the  storm  be  o'er. 

3.  When  the  black  cloud  rises  high', 
When  it  spreads  along  the  sky', 
When  the  forked  lightnings  fly'. 

And  the  thunders  roar',^ 

4.  Never  will  I  feel  alarm ; 

God  can  shield*  me  from  all  harm : 
In  the  sunshine  and  the  storm, 
Him  will  I  adore. 


Spreads,  extends. 

Quiv'-EE-tNG,  moving  with  a  tremulous 
motion. 


<=  Sheink,  draw  back. 

*  Thun'-dee-clap,  burst  of  thunder. 

"  Shield,  protect ;  defend. 


[Lesson  XIV.  is  a  brief  description  of  one  of  the  most  sublime  scenes  in 
nature.  Yet  He  who  causes  the  thunder  and  the  lightning  can  shield  us 
from  all  harm.  What  is  the  first  notice  we  have  of  a  rainbow  ?  Why  does 
God  cause  the  rainbow  to  appear  in  the  heavens  after  such  a  storm  ? 


THIRD  READER 


41 


LESSON  XY.^ 
The  LAUGHmG,  Happy  Man. 

1.  What  a  laughing  face^!'" 
How  round  and  plump  the 
cheeks  are^  V  What  a  merry 
eye^  V  How  large  and  round 
the  head  is' !"  What  a  wide 
mouth\  and  what  a  broad 
grin'  V'  And  the  teeth,  how 
wMte^  they  are!'"  And  the 
hair,  how  long  and  cui'ly''  it 

isr 

2.  Is  the  man  merry^?'  Is  he  very  much 
pleased^  V  Does  he  look  like  a  happy  man^  V  Is 
he  laughing  aloud^  V  Is  his  hair  blacF,  as  well  as 
curly^?'  Has  he  heard  something  funny^?'  Has 
he  seen  something  pretty^  V  Do  you  think  he  is 
an  old  man^  ?' 

3.  Why  do  you  think  he  is  merry'  f  What  do 
you  see  in  his  eye'  f  Why  does  he  look  happy'  f 
What  do  you  think  it  is  that  pleases  him'  f  How 
do  you  know  that  his  hair  is  black' f  Who  said 
that  he  had  heard  something  witty' f  How  do 
you  know  that  he  is  not  an  old  man'  f 

4.  Are  his  eyes  black^,  or  are  they  gray'  f  Are 
they  large',  or  are  they  small'  f  Is  he  an  old  man', 
or  a  young''  man  f    Who  can  answer  so  many  ques- 

*  [Lessons  XV.  and  XVI.  embrace  a  great  variety  of  the  different  ex- 
amples of  inflections,  as  eight  of  the  eleven  rules  for  inflections  are  here  il- 
lustrated. Yet  it  is  not  expected  that  the  pupils  will  be  required  to  explain 
these  inflections  by  references  to  the  rules.  It  will  be  sufficient  if  they  read 
the  sentences  correctly,  by  the  aid  of  the  marks  given."] 


42  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

tions^f     Can  you^f     Will  you  try^,  or  will  you 
not^r 

5.  We  do  not  liear  the  man  laugh^,  we  8ee  liim 
laugli\'  We  do  not  say  he  is  a  wise  man^,  we  say  lie 
is  a  happy  man\°  We  think  he  is  a  good  man\  not 
a  had  man^"   Happy  men  are  not  often  wicked  men. 

6.  A  good  man  is  cheerfuP;*  he  is  happy^;*  he 
does  all  the  good  he  can^  -^  he  is  a  good  neighboi^/ 
and  a  true  £riend\  He  has  the  respect  of  all  who 
know  him. 

7.  When  a  man  laughs  heartily',""  the  corners  of 
his  mouth  are  drawn  up\'  as  you  see  them  in  the 
picture^;  the  cheeks  are  pushed  up',''  and  wrinkled^;* 
and  the  eyes  are  nearly  closed\''  Is  it  the  same  in 
sorrow  and  sadness',  and  in  anger'  V  No\  Look 
at  the  next  picture,  and  you  will  see  the  difference. 


LESSON  XYI. 
The  Anget,  Unhappy  Man". 

1.  Do  you  see  this 
strange  man'  V  Has  he  a 
pleasant  face'?'  Does  he 
seem  to  be  happy  f  Has 
he  a  laughing,  merry  eye'  f 
Do  you  think  he  is  a  kind- 
hearted  and  good  man  f 
What'  f  Ai^e  you  afraid 
of  him'  f  Are  you  afraid 
to  go  near  him'  f 

2.  I  do  not  wonder  that 
you  do  not  like  to  go  near 


THIRD  READER.  43 

Mm.  Who  loves  to  look  at  an  angry  man^  f  Not 
I.  It  is  not  pleasant  to  see  a  man  angry\  for  Ms 
whole  face  shows  that  lie  is  in  pain.  The  angry- 
man  is  not  happy.  He  is  wretched,  and  it  makes 
one  unhappy  to  look  at  him. 

3.  See  his  eyes^ !'°  How  fierce^  they  are !'"  They 
are  bloodshot  with  passion^  I"^'"  And  his  forehead 
— do  you  see  how  it  is  Avrinkled,  and  raised  up  in 
rigid^  furrows^  V  And  his  nostrils — how  wide  open 
they  are^ !'"  His  lips — how  swollen^  they  are  !'" 
Yes,  swollen  with  rage^ !'"  And  his  teeth — see 
how  he  gnashes^  them !'°  He  is  so  angry  that  he 
can  not  speak. 

4.  You  can  not  see  his  hands^:  but  they  are 
clenched,''  as  if  he  were  about  to  strike^  some  one. 
He  can  not  easily  controP"^  himself.  He  is  burning 
with  anger^ !  He  is  bursting  with  rage^ !  He  has 
no  reason  left^ !     He  is  like  a  madman^ ! 

5.  How  much  this  man's  face  tells  of  the  feel- 
ings of  his  heart^ !'"  We  can  read  it  all  there.  He 
can  not  conceal  his  heart  from  us.  And  what  a 
bad  heart  he  must  have^ !'"  So  full  of  anger\  of 
rage7  of  revenge^ !     Unhappy  man^ !'° 

■  Pas'-sion,  anger ;  rage.  I  <=  Clench'ed,  firmly  closed. 

^  Rig'-id,  atiflf,  I  <i  Con-teol',  govern ;  restrain. 

[Lessons  XV.  and  XVI.  Here  two  very  different  characters  are  pic- 
tured, as  well  as  described  in  words.  The  marked  contrast  shown  between 
the  looks  of  the  laughing,  happy  man,  and  the  angry,  unhappy  man,  should 
make  anger  repulsive  to  every  one.  Habitual  anger  leaves  its  permanent 
marks  of  wretchedness  upon  the  countenance.  So  all  sinful  passions  may 
be  read  in  the  countenance.  Cultivate  a  cheerful  disposition.  Do  nut 
give  way  to  an  unhappy  temper.] 


The  angry  man  is  a  madman. 

Command  your  temper,  lest  it  command  you. 


44  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSOISr  XYII 
The  Things  I  Love. 
f  1.  I  love  the  cheerful  summer-time, 
With  all  its  birds  and  flowers, 
The  grassy  lawn*  beneath  my  feet. 
The  cool,  refreshing  showers. 
^  2.  I  love  to  hear  the  little  birds 
That  sing  among  the  trees ; 
I  love  the  gentle  murmuring^  stream, 
I  love  the  evening  breeze. 
^3.  I  love  the  bright  and  glorious  sjaiu 
That  gives  us  light  and  heat ; 
I  love  the  pearly*'  drops  of  dew 
That  sparkle*^  'neath  my  feet. 

^4.  I  love  to  hear /the  busy^hum 
Of  honey-making  bee. 
And  learn  a  lesson,  hard  to  learn, 
,  \.y  Of  patient  industry.* 

\  :  ^  S-  I  love  to  see  jihe  playful  lambs. 

So  innocent  and  gay ; 
I  love  the  faithful,  watchful  dog, 
Who  guards  them  night  and  da}-. 
0  6.  I  love  to  think  of  Him  who  made 
These  pleasant  things  for  me ; 
Who  gave  me  life,  and  health,  and  strength, 
And  eyes  that  I  might  see. 

>y*l.l  love  the  holy  Sabbath-day, 
So  peaceful,  calm,  and  still; 
And,  oh !  I  love  to  go  to  church, 
And  learn  my  Maker's  will. 


L-' 


"  Lawn,  a  Bpace  of  ground  covered  with 

grass. 
^  Mur'-mur-ing,  making  a  low,  continued 

noise. 


<=  Pearl '-Y,  clear;  transparent,  like  pearl. 
^  Spar'-kle,  glisten ;  shine  like  sparks, 
e  In'-dus-try,  steady  attention  to  business. 


/  [Lesson  XVII.  Here  are  mentioned  numerous  objects  and  scenes  in 
nature,  which  are  well  calculated  to  awaken  in  us  a  deep  interest,  and  call 
forth  our  love.  Our  attention  is  then  directed  to  IIim  who  made  these 
pleasant  things  for  us — and,  finally,  to  the  Sabbath,  and  its  duties.] 


THIRD  READER.  45 

LESSON  XVIIL 
Little  Dick  and  the  Giant. — An  Allegory, 

1.  "Now  I  will  tell  yoii  a  story — and  a  true 
story  it  is  too — about  Little  Dick  and  the  Giant," 
said  Uncle  John ;  "  and  you  must  not  ask  me  any 
questions  about  it  until  I  get  through." 

2.  Little  Dick  was  a  happy  fellow.  He  would 
sing  and  w^histle  nearly  all  day.  He  was  as  merry 
as  a  lark,  and  as  gay  as  a  butterfly,  and  scarcely 
any  thing  could  make  him  sad. 

3.  One  day  little  Dick  thought  he  would  have  a 
ramble*  in  the  forest,  at  some  distance  from  his 
home.  So  off  he  went  in  high  spirits,  singing  and 
whistling  till  the  woods  rang  with  his  music. 

4.  At  length  he  reached  a  clear  brook  that  ran 
through  the  woods ;  and  being  very  thirsty,  he 
stooped  down  to  drink.  But,  just  at  that  moment, 
he  was  suddenly  seized — ^he  scarcely  knew  how — 
and  found  himself  in  the  hands  of  a  fierce,  ugly- 
looking  giant,  a  hundred  times  bigger  than  himself. 

5.  For  some  time  the  giant  held  him  in  his  big 
hands,  and  looked  at  him  with  great  delight.^  He 
then  put  him  into  a  large  bag,  and  carried  him 
away. 

6.  Poor  Dick,  who  was  in  great  fear,  did  all  he 
could  do  to  escape*"  from  his  cruel  captor.  He 
screamed,  and  he  tried  to  tear  the  bag ;  but  the 
giant  only  laughed  at  him,  and  went  on,  holding 
him  fast. 

7.  At  last,  the  giant  came  to  his  o^vn  house — 
unlike  any  that  Dick  had  ever  seen  before;  for  it 


46  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

was  a  gloomy  place — at  least  it  seemed  so  to  Dick 
— ^with  a  higli  wall  all  around  it,  and  no  trees,  nor 
flowers.  When  lie  went  in,  lie  shut  the  door,  and 
took  Dick  out  of  the  bag. 

8.  The  poor  captive*^  thought  the  giant  would 
now  kill  him ;  for,  when  he  looked  around,  he  saw 
a  large  fire,  and  before  it  were  two  victims  larger 
than  himself,  roasting  for  the  giant's  dinner.  No 
wonder  that  Dick  trembled  with  fear  ! 

9.  The  giant,  however,  did  not  mean  to  kill  Dick ; 
but  he  put  him  into  a  prison  which  he  had  pre- 
pared for  him.  It  was  quite  a  dark  room,  with 
cross-bars  all  around  it.  The  giant  gave  him  a 
piece  of  dry  bread,  and  a  cup  of  water,  and  then 
left  him. 

10.  The  poor  captive  was  very  wretched,  for  he 
had  never  before  been  deprived  of  his  liberty.  He 
beat  his  head  against  the  iron  bars,  and  dashed 
backward  and  forward  in  his  prison-house,  but  he 
could  not  escape. 

11.  The  next  day  the  giant  came  and  looked  at 
Dick ;  and  finding  that  he  had  eaten  none  of  the 
bread,  he  took  him  by  the  head,  and  crammed 
some  of  the  bread  down  his  throat.  Poor  Dick, 
who  was  nearly  choked  to  death  by  this  rude  treat- 
ment, was  in  too  great  a  fright  to  think  of  eating 
or  drinking. 

12.  He  was  left  alone,  in  his  gloomy  prison,  an- 
other day ;  and  a  sad  day  it  was.  The  poor  crea- 
ture thought  of  his  own  pleasant  home,  his  com- 
panions, the  sunlight,  the  trees,  the  flowers,  and 
the  many  nice  things  he  used  to  eat ;  and  then  he 


THIRD  READER.  47 

screamed, and  tried  to  get  out  between  the  iron  bars: 
but  he  only  beat  and  tore  himself,  and  all  in  vain. 

13.  The  giant  came  again,  and  wished  Dick  to 
sing,  the  same  as  he  did  when  he  was  in  his  own 
home,  and  was  happy.  ''''Sing!  sing!  sing!"^"^  said 
he :  "  Wliy  donH  you  sing""  f^  But  Dick  was  too 
sad  to  sing.     Who  could  sing  in  a  prison ! 

14.  At  length  the  giant  grew  very  angry,  and 
took  Dick  out  of  his  prison  to  make  him  sing. 
He  shook  him,  and  his  big  hand  almost  forced  the 
breath  out  of  Dick's  body.  Dick  gave  a  loud 
scream,  plunged,  and  struggled,  and  then  sank  dead 
in  the  giant's  hand  ! 

1 5.  "  What  a  story  that  is' !"  said  Henry.  '-'  Who 
believes  there  are  any  giants' !  or  that  they  treat 
little  boys  so' !" 

16.  "Did  I  say  that  Dick  was  a  little  boy,  and 
that  the  giant  was  a  big  man^  %  No,  no.  But  I 
will  tell  you  who  they  were.  Poor  Dick  was  a 
little  hirdj  and, that  giant  was  a  cruel  ioyP 

*  Ram'-ble,  stroll;  excursion.  J  "  Es-cape',  get  away. 

^  De-light',  pleasure.  |  f  Cap'-tive,  prisoner. 

[Lesson  XVIII.  is  an  allegory— that  is,  a  story  in  which  the  apparent 
meaning  is  not  the  real  one,  but  is  designed  to  set  forth  some  important 
truth  with  greater  force.  The  real  truth  designed  to  be  illustrated  in  this 
lesson,  is  the  wickedness  of  a  boy,  in  depriving  of  its  liberty,  and  cruelly 
treating,  a  little  bird.  Birds  were  made  for  freedom.  See,  also,  Les- 
sons XIX.  and  XLIV.] 


H  Y  M  IC. 

1.  There  is  a  land  above, 

All  beautiful  and  bright ; 
And  those  who  love  and  seek  the  Lord, 
Rise  to  that  world  of  light. 


48  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

2.  There  sin  is  known  no  more, 

Nor  tears,  nor  want,  nor  care ; 
There  good  and  happy  beings  dwell, 
And  all  are  holy  there. 


LESSON  XIX. 
The   Goldfinch. 


3. 


Time  was  when  I  was  free  as  air\ 
The  thistle's  downy  seed  my  fare','^ 

My  drink  the  morning  dew^ ; 
I  p^rched^  at  will  on  every  spray\^ 
My  form  genteel',  my  plumage^  gay\ 

My  strains'®  forever  new\ 

But  gaudy^  plumage',  sprightly  strain'. 
And  form  genteel',  were  all  in  vain\ 

And  of  a  transient^  date^ ; 
For  caught,  and  caged,  and  starved  to  death', 
In  dying  sighs  my  little  breath 

Soon  passed  the  wiry  grate. 

Thanks,  little  miss,  for  all  my  woes'. 
And  thanks  for  this  effectual  close. 
And  cure  of  every  ilP ; 


THIRD  READER. 


49 


More  cruelty  could  none  express^ ; 
And  I^  if  you  had  shown  me  less', 

Had  been  your  prisoner  still. — Cowper. 


»  Faee,  food. 

•^  Perch'ei),  alighted. 

*  Spkay,  twig ;  branch  of  a  tree. 

"*  Plu'-mage,  feathers. 


«  Steains,  notes;  songs, 
f  Gaud'-y,  showy;  splendid, 
e  Tkan'-sient,  not  lasting ;  of  short  dura- 
tion. 


[Lesson  XIX.  is  an  additional  illustration  of  the  principle  embraced  in 
the  preceding  lesson.  The  goldfinch  first  describes  its  happy  state  of  free- 
dom ;  then  its  treatment  as  an  enslaved  prisoner,  and  its  release  by  death ; 
and  in  the  first  three  lines  of  the  last  verse  it  ironically  thanks  the  little 
miss  for  all  its  woes.     Let  the  teacher  explain  what  irony  means.] 


LESSON  XX. 
The    Old    Slate. 

1  "  I  have  a  great  mind  to  break  tHs  stupid  old 
slate,"  said  Charles,  one  morning,  as  he  sat,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  almost  crying  over  his  first  lesson 
in  Subtraction. 

"Why,  what  has  the  poor  slate  done^?"  asked 
the  pleasant  voice  of  his  sister  Helen,  behind  him. 

2.  "  Nothing.  That  is  just  what  I  complain  of. 
It  won't  make  the  figures  in  this  lesson  for  me; 
and  here  it  is  almost  school-time !" 

"  What  a  wicked  slate,  Charles !" 

3.  "  So  it  is.  I  mean  to  throw  it  out  of  the  win- 
dow, and  break  it  in  pieces  on  the  stones." 

"  Will  that  get  your  lesson  for  you,  Charley^  T' 
"  No ;  but  if  there  were  no  slates  in  the  world, 
I  should  have  no  such  lessons  to  learn." 

4.  "  Oh,  ho^ !  Indeed' !"  But  that  does  not  fol- 
low, by  any  means.  Did  slates  make  Arithmetic'  V 
Would  people  nevel*  have  to  count,  and  calculate, 
if  there  were  no  slates'  V     You  forget  pens,  lead- 

C 


50  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

pencils,  and  paper :  you  forget  all  about  oral^  aritL 
metic,  Charley^ !'" 

"Well, I  don't  like  to  cipher;  that's  all:  but  I 
do  like  to  count." 

5.  "And  so,  you  hasty  boy,  you  get  angry  with 
the  poor  harmless^  slate,  that  is  so  convenient''  when 
you  make  mistakes  and  wish  to  rub  them  out. 
This  is  the  way  with  a  great  many  thoughtless, 
quick-tempered  people.  They  try  to  find  fault 
with  somebody,  or  something,  and  get  into  a  pas- 
sion,*^  and  perhaps  do  mischief;  when,  if  they  would 
reflect^,  they  would  find  that  they  themselves  ought 
to  bear  all  the  blame.  Now,  Charley^,'  let  me  see 
what  I  can  do  for  you." 

6.  So  Helen  sat  down  in  her  mother's  great  easy 
chair :  she  tried  to  look  grave^  and  dignified,  like 
an  old  lady,  though  she  was  but  eighteen.  Charley 
came  rather  unwillingly,  laid  the  slate  on  her  lap, 
and  began  to  play  with  the  trimmings  on  her 
apron.^  "  Why,  what  is  this^  ?"'  said  she  ;  "  sol- 
diers, and  cats,  and  dogs,  and  houses  with  windows 
of  all  shapes  and  sizes^ !"'° 

7.  Charley  looked  foolish.  "  Oh,  the  lesson  is  on 
the  other  side,"  said  he,  turning  the  slate  over. 

"Ah,  silly  boyM"'"  said  Helen;  "here  you  have" 
been  sitting  half  an  hour  drawing  pictures,  instead 
of  trying  to  learn  your  lesson.  And  now,  which 
do  you  think  ought  to  be  broken\  you^  or  your 
slate^  ?"  and  she  held  the  slate  up  high,  as  if  she 
meant  to  beat  his  head  mth  it. 

8.  Charley  looked  up,  with  his  hands  at  his  ears, 
but  laughing  all  the  while,  for  he  knew  she  was 


THIED  READER.  51 

only  playing  with  him.  Presently,  however,  she 
put  on  a  serious  face,  and  said, "  Now,  my  little 
man,  you  must  go  to  work  in  good  earnest,  to  make 
up  for  lost  time." 

9.  "  Oh,  Helen,  it  wants  only  twenty  minutes  of 
nine :  I  shall  be  late  to  school.  Can't  you,  just  this 
once,  make  the  figures  for  me'  ?" 

^^  No,"  said  Helen. 

"  Oh,  do^ !  just  this  once." 

10.  "  No,  Charley' ;  there  would  be  no  kindness 
in  that.  You  would  never  learn  arithmetic  in  that 
way.  If  I  do  it  once',  you  will  find  it  harder  to  be 
refused  to-morrow.  I  will  do  a  much  kinder  thing: 
I  will  just  show  you  a  little,  and  you  may  do  all 
the  work  yourself." 

11.  So  she  passed  her  arm  gently  around  him; 
and  though  Charley  pouted  at  first,  and  could  hard- 
ly see  through  his  tears,  she  questioned  him  about 
the  rule,  and  then  began  to  show  him  the  proper^ 
way  to  get  his  lesson. 

When  all  was  finished,  Charley  was  surprised  to 
find  that  he  should  still  be  in  season  for  school. 

12.  "  Now,  to-morrow,  Charley,"  said  Helen, "  do 
not  waste  a  moment,  but  begin  your  lesson  at  once, 
and  you  will  find  it  a  great  saving,  not  only  of 
time,  but  of  temper.  I  hope  you  will  not  get  into 
a  passion  again,  with  this  good  old  slate  of  mine. 
It  went  to  school  with  me  when  I  was  a  little  girl, 
and  I  should  be  sorry  if  you  had  broken  it  for  not 
doing  your  work." 

13.  Away  ran  Charles  to  school,  thinking  to 
himself,  "Well,  I  suppose  I  was  wrong,  and  Helen  is 


52  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

right.  ^  I  ought  not  to  have  been  making  pictures : 
I  ought  to  have  been  getting  my  lesson." — YoutKs 
Cabinet. 


»  O'-RAL,  spoken;  not  written. 
*>  Hakm'-less,  doing  no  harm, 
c  Con-ven'-ient,  suitable ;  useful. 
^  Pa8'-8ion,  violent  anger. 


e  Rb-1'Tlect',  consider. 

^  Gkave,  serious;  sober. 

s  A'-PEON,  pronounced  a'-purn. 

•»  Peop'-ee,  right ;  correct. 


[Lesson  XX.  shows  the  folly  of  putting  off  any  work  that  ought  to  be, 
and  must  be  done.  The  best  way  is  to  set  about  it  at  once,  with  a  determ- 
ination to  do  it.  It  is  a  very  true  saying,  that  "Where  there's  a  will, 
there's  a  way."  See  the  principle  of  this  lesson  enforced  in  Lessons  XXL, 
XXXI.,  and  XXXII.] 


LESSON  XXI. 
Business  Fikst,  and  then  Pleasuee. 

1.  A  man  who  is  very  rich  now,  was  poor  when 
a  boy.  When  asked  how  he  became  so  wealthy, 
he  replied,  "  My  father  taught  me  never  to  play  till 
all  my  work  for  the  day  was  done,  and  never  to 
spend  my  money  till  I  had  earned  it — that  is,  never 
to  get  into  debt. 

2.  ^^  If  I  had  but  half  an  hour's  work  to  do  in 
the  day,  I  was  told  that  I  must  do  it  the  first  thing, 
and  in  half  an  hour.  After  this  was  done  I  was 
allowed  to  play ;  and  I  am  sure  I  could  then  play 
with  much  more  pleasure  than  if  I  had  the  thought 
of  an  unfinished  task  before  my  mind. 

3.  "  I  early  formed  the  habit  of  doing  every  thing 
in  its  time,  and  it  is  to  this  habit  that  I  owe  all  my 
good  fortune."  Let  every  boy  who  reads  this,  form 
the  same  habit,  and  he  may  have  a  similar  reward. 

[Lesson  XXL,  like  the  preceding  lesson,  illustrates  the  importance  of 
attending  to  business  before  pleasure,  and  of  doing  every  thing  in  its  time.'] 


THIRD  READER.  53 

LESSON.  XXII. 
Fickle  Weather. 

1.  It  shines',  it  rains\ 
Then  shines  again^ : 

What  does  the  weather  mean^  ? 

'Tis  now  in  doubt^ ; 

Then  sun  comes  out', 
With  drizzHng  mists  between\  • 

2.  Now  dark',  now  light\ 
Like  day',  like  night^ : 

'Tis  changing,  fickle  weather\ 

It  mists  at  times^ ; 

Then  rains',  then  shines^ ; 
And  sometimes,  all  together. 

[Lesson  XXII.  is  a  somewhat  fanciful  description  of  fickle,  changeable 
weather.    It  is  suitable  for  declamation.] 


LESSON  XXIII. 
The  Lord  MxVde  them  All. 

1.  All  things  bright  and  beautiful, 

All  creatures  great  and  small ; 

All  things  wise  and  wonderful — 

The  Lord  hath  made  them  all. 

2.  Each  little  flower  that  opens. 

Each  little  bird  that  sings — 
He  made  their  glowing  colors, 
He  made  their  tiny  wings. 

3.  The  distant  hazy  mountain. 

The  river,  running  by, 
The  morning,  and  the  sunset. 
Which  both  light  up  the  sky  ; 

4.  The  tall  trees  in  the  greenwood. 

The  pleasant  summer  sun. 

The  ripe  fruits  in  the  garden — 

He  made  them,  every  one. 


54 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


5.  He  gave  us  eyes  to  see  them, 
And  lips  that  we  might  tell 
How  great  is  God  Almighty, 
Who  doeth  all  things  well. 

[Lesson  XXIII.  sets  forth  God's  creative  power,  as  shown  in  an  enu- 
meration of  some  of  his  works.  We  are  given  eyes  to  see  God's  works, 
and  lips  that  we  may  praise  him  for  them.] 


LESSON  XXIV. 
Meditation. 


1.  Can  you  tell  me  what  this  man  is  doing'?' 
Why  does  he  sit  in  that  position,  with  his  forehead 
resting  on  his  hand^f    Is  he  sick'?'    Is  he  asleep'?' 

2.  He  is  not  sick',  nor  is  he  asleep^ ;  although 
perhaps  he  is  half  dreaming.  He  is  in  deep  medi- 
tation. 

3.  And  what  does  meditation  mean^  f  And  why 
do  you  say  this  man  is  in  deep  meditation^  ?' 

4.  I  will  explain  to  you.     This  man  is  medita- 


THIRD  READER.  55 

ting^:  that  is',  lie  is  tJiinJcing  upon  some  subject\ 
He  is  only  thinhing^;  lie  is  not  talMng\  We  say 
this  man  is  in  dee^:)  meditation',  because  lie  seems  to 
be  engaged''  in  earnest',^  quiet',  and  deep'''  tlioug]it\ 

5.  We  might  say',  he  is  absorbed''  in  thought\  or 
absorbed  in  meditation^;  and  we  should  mean', 
that  he  is  so  fully  occupied^  with  thinking',  or  med- 
itating', that  he  gives  no  attention  to  any  thing 
else\  If  some  one  should  pass  through  the  room, 
perhaps  he  would  neither  see  him',  nor  Tiear  him\ 

6.  Do  you  never  meditate!  f^  Do  you  not  some- 
times think  about  what  you  have  seen',  or  heard', 
or  done'?'  Do  you  not  sometimes  think  deeply — 
earnestly'  f  If  you  have  done  wrong' — if  you  have 
been  wicked' — do  you  not  sometimes  reflect^  upon 
your  conduct,  and  resolve^  to  do  better'  f 

7.  If  you  do\  as  I  Tiope  you  do',  then  you  medi- 
tate". The  picture  at  the  head  of  this  lesson  will 
aid  you  in  remembering  what  meditation  means. 


»  En-gag'ed,  earnestly  employed. 
*'  Eaen'-est,  deep;  serious. 
=  Ab-80Kb'ed,  fully  occupied. 


^  Ee-flect',  consider  attentively, 
e  Ee-$olve',  determine. 


[Lesson  XXIV.,  besides  furnishing  a  variety  of  useful  exercises  in  em- 
phasis and  inflection,  explains*  the  subject  of  Meditation — illustrates  it  by 
the  aid  of  the  picture — and  amply  defines  the  meaning  of  the  word.] 


LESSON  XXY. 
The  Ant  and  the  Ceicket. — A  Fahle^  in  Prose. 

1.  On  the  approach  of  winter  a  company  of  ants 
were  busily  employed*  in  collecting^  a  supply  of 
food,  which  they  kept,  for  a  time,  at  the  doors  of 
their  country  dwelling,  and  then  stored  away  in 
chambers  below  ground. 


56  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

2.  A  cricket,  who  had  chanced  to  outlive  the 
summer,  and  was  now,  w^et,  and  shivering  with  cold, 
ready  to  starve  with  hunger,  approached  the  ants 
with  great  humility,*"  and  begged  that  they  would 
relieve  her  wants  with  one  mouthful  of  food,  and 
give  her  shelter  from  the  storm. 

3.  "  But  how  is  it\"  said  one  of  the  ants',  "  that 
you  have  not  taken  pains  to  provide  yourself  a 
house\  and  to  lay  in  a  supply  of  food  for  the  win- 
ter,-as  we  have  done^?'" 

4.  "Alas, friends7'  said  she,  "I  needed  no  house 
to  live  in  in  the  summer;  and  I  passed  away  the 
time  merrily  and  pleasantly,  in  drinking,  singing, 
and  dancing,  and  never  onee  thought  of  winter." 

5.  "  If  that  be  the  case,"  replied  the  ant,  laugh- 
,  ing,  "all  I  have  to  say,  is,  that ^ they  who   drink, 

sing,  and  dance  all  summer,  must  starve  in  winter. 
We  ants  never  borrow,  and  we  never  lend." 

6.  Moral. — Do  not,  like  the  silly  cricket,  waste 
all  your  time  in  play  and  idle  amusement,  but  store 
your  mind  with  knowledge,  which,  like  the  hoard'^ 
of  the  industrious  ants,  will  be  of  use  to  you  in  the 
winter  of  adversity. 

7. "  Go  to  the  ant,*  thou  sluggard ;  con- 
sider her  ways,  and  be  wise;  which,  having  no 
guide,  overseer,  or  ruler,  provideth  her  meat  in  the 

*  Many  suppose  that  the  word  "ant"  is  here  a  mistranslation,  and  that 
Solomon  spoke  of  some  other  animal,  because,  they  say,  the  ants  do  not 
lay  up  a  store  of  grain  for  winter  use,  as  they  are  torpid  during  winter. 
This  is,  indeed,  true  of  the  ants  in  <;old  climates.  But  it  is  asserted,  on 
good  authority,  that  a  species  of  ants  in  India  stores  up  the  seeds  of  a 
kind  of  grass  against  the  wet  or  cold  season  of  the  year.  Even  in  cold 
climates  the  ants  carry  worms,  living  insects,  etc.,  into  their  nests,  for 
food. 


THIRD  READER.  57 

summer,  and  gatheretli  her  food  in  tlie  harvest." — 
Proverbs. 


Em-ploy'ed,  engaged ;  occupied. 
€ol-leot'-ing,  gathering. 


Hir-MiL'-i-TY,  meekness  of  manner. 
HoAKD,  store ;  supply. 


LESSON  XXYI. 
The  Ant  and  the  Ceicket. — A  Fahle,  in  Verse, 


1.  A  silly  young  cricket,  accustomed  to  sing 

Through  the  warm  sunny  months  of  gay  summer  and 

spring, 
Began  to  complain,  when  he  found  that,  at  home, 
His  cupboard*  was  empty,  and  winter  was  come : 

Not  a  crumb  to  be  found 

On  the  snow-covered  ground  ; 

Not  a  flower  could  he  see, 

Not  a  leaf  on  a  tree : 
"  Oh !  what  will  become,"  says  the  cricket,  "  of  me^  ?" 

2.  At  last,  by  starvation  and  famine  made  bold. 

All  dripping  with  wet,  and  all  trembling  with  cold, 
C2 


58  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

Away  he  set  off  to  a  miserly  ant, 

To  see  if,  to  keep  him  alive,  he  would  grant 

Him  shelter  from  rain. 

And  a  mouthful  of  grain. 

He  wished  only  to  borrow ; 

He'd  repay^  it  to-morrow ; 
If  not,  he  must  die  of  starvation  and  sorrow\ 

3.  Says  the  ant  to  the  cricket',  "  I'm  your  servant'  and  friend\ 
But  we  ants  never  borrow^ ;  we  ants  never  lend\ 

But  teir  me,  dear  cricket',  did  you  lay  nothing  by 
When  the  weather  was  warm'?"     Quoth°  the   cricket, 
"NotP! 

My  heart  was  so  light 

Tnat  I  sang  day  and  night\ 

For  all  nature  looked  gay\" — 

"  You  sang,  sir,  you  say'  ? 
Go,  then,"  says  the  ant,  "  and  dance  winter  away." 

4.  Thus  ending,  he  hastily  lifted  the  wicket,*^ 

And  out  of  the  door  turned  the  poor  little  cricket. 

Folks  call  this  2^ fable:  I'll  warrant  it  true: 

Some  crickets  have/owr  legs',  and  some  have  but  two\ 

*  Cup'-BOAKD,  pronounced  kuV-b'&rd.  I  «  QuOth,  said;  replied. 

*•  Re-pay',  return ;  pay  back.  |  '^  Wicket,  a  small  gate. 

[Lessons  XXV.  and  XXVI.  The  cricket  shown  in  the  picture  is  the 
Field-Cricket.  The  moral  of  the  story  is  told  in  Lesson  XXV.  Al- 
though the  conduct  of  the  miserly  ant  is  not  to  be  commended,  yet  the 
treatment  which  the  improvident  cricket  received  was  very  natural.  Those 
who  will  not  labor  for  themselves,  should  not  expect  others  to  labor  for 
them.] 

A  Geain  of  Coen. 

1.  A  grain  of  corn  an  infant's  hand 
May  plant  upon  an  inch  of  land. 

Whence  twenty  stalks  may  spring,  and  yield 
Enough  to  stock  a  little  field. 

2.  The  harvest  of  that  field  might  then 
Be  multiplied  to  ten  times  ten. 

Which,  sown  thrice  more,  would  furnish  bread 
Wherewith  an  army  might  be  fed. 


THIRD  READER.  59 

LESSON  XXYII. 
Jack  Feost  and  the  South  Wind. 

1.  Jack  Frost  was  a  famous  king,  wlio  had  come 
a  great  way  from  tlie  North.  A  long  time  lie  had 
ruled  over  the  earth  and  over  the  streams;  and 
every  thing  on  which  he  laid  his  cold  hands,  he 
bound  in  icy  chains. 

2.  Jack  Frost  was  a  stern^  old  tyrant.  His  locks 
were  whitened  with  snow,  so  that  he  seemed  to  be 
very  aged  ;^  and  his  beard  was  hung  with  icicles.'' 
His  voice  was  as  harsh  as  the  December  blast  that 
came  howling  over  the  mountains:  he  never  smiled; 
and  it  was  said  of  him  that  he  never  had  any  mercy 
on  the  poor.  They  might  starve,  or  freeze,  but  lit- 
tle did  Jack  Frost  care  for  their  sufferings."^ 

3.  At  length  there  arose  up  against  him  a  great 
but  very  mild  and  gentle  king  from  the  South, 
called  the  South  Wind.  Unlike  Jack  Frost,  this 
king  had  a  smiling  face,  a  laughing  eye,  and  a 
voic^'-soffc  and  gentle.  He  had  flowing  auburn^ 
locks,  and  his  smooth  beardless  face  was  like  that 
of  a  boy  in  the  very  spring-time  of  life. 

4.  When  these  two  kings  met,  "  It  is  my  time 
now  to  rule,"  gently  whispered^  the  South  Wind. 

"Pity  you  are  not  more  of  a  man,"  blustered^ 
Jack  Frost,  as  he  looked  at  the  beardless  face  of 
his  rival. 

5.  "Ah,  well,  to  do  as  much  good  as  I  can,  is  to 
do  something,"  answered  the  South  Wind.  And 
in  spite  of  a  chilling  look  of  scorn  fi^om  Jack  Frost, 
he  went  about  his  work. 


60  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

6.  First  lie  unchained^  the  streams,  and  they  ran 
off  in  a  bound,  rejoicing  in  their  freedom.  The 
miller  hastened  to  his  mill,  and  the  fisher  went  for 
his  rod. 

7.  Next  he  breathed  upon  the  snow-banks,  and 
they  melted  away :  he  loosened  the  earth,  and  said 
to  the  grasses  "  Take  courage." 

He  swept  through  the  forests,  and  he  brushed 
over  the  orchards,  starting  the  sap  in  the  trees,  and 
calling  to  leaf,  bud,  and  blossom,  "  Make  ready." 

8.  Wherever  he  went,  the  birds  followed  him 
with  their  songs,  and  he  b^de  them  have  a  thought 
for  their  nests. 

Then  what  a  waking  up  was  there  in  the  farm- 
yard !  The  cows  were  heard  to  low,  the  lambs  to 
bleat,  and  the  hens  to  cluck ;  the  farmer  began  to 
bustle  about,  and  the  housewife  was  all  astir. 

9.  How  kind,  how  cheerful  is  the  South  Wind  ! 
Though  he  has  a  large  realm  to  rule  over,  and  so 
much  to  do  that  he  sometimes  can  not  help  puffing 
and  blowing,  he  does  not  think  it  beneath  him  to 
step  aside  from  his  great  out-door  work,  and  do 
little  things  to  comfort  and  to  bless. 

10.  So  he  breathes  gently  into  the  chamber  of 
sickness,  and  whispers  to  the  poor  sufferer,  "  Be  of 
good  cheer;  I  bring  you  the  promise  of  better 
things."  Busy,  busy,  busy  is  the  South  Wind. 
"  Every  thing  in  its  season,"  he  says. 

11.  Already  Jack  Frost  seemed  to  melt  a  little, 
especially  when  he  looked  around  and  saw  what 
new  life  every  thing  had.  "Talents  differ,"  wheezed 
he :  "  but  it  is  hard  to  give  up  the  rule." 


THIRD  READER.  61 

12.  "Eemember"  said  the  South  Wind  kindly, 
"  that  of  ourselves  we  are  nothing.  We  only  do 
the  bidding  of  one  Mightier  than  we,  and  we  can 
serve  him  as  much  in  yielding^  as  in  doing'' — as 
much  in  being  set  asid^^  as  in  being  set  i/^\" 

"  Weiy  sighed  Jack  Frost,  "  perhaps  it  is  so." 
Tears  ran  down  his  cheeks,  and  he  shrunk  away. 


»  Steen,  harsh ;  severe. 

^  A'-GE»,  old. 

•=  I'-ci-ci.Es,  pronounced  i'-si-kelz. 

<*  Suf'-fee-ings,  distress ;  sorrows. 

«  Au'-BUEN,  reddish  brown. 


*■  Whts'-pered,  spoke  with  a  low  hissing 
voice. 

e  Blus'-teeet),  talked  in  a  loud  and  swag- 
gering manner. 

•*  Un-chained',  loosed. 


[Lesson  XXVII.  The  harshness,  the  cold,  and  the  severity  of  winter, 
are  here  pictured  under  the  unrelenting  character  of  Jack  Frost;  and  the 
mild  influences  of  spring,  under  the  genial  character  of  the  South  Wind. 
Jack  Frost  is  tyrannical,  and  unmerciful.  The  South  Wind  is  a  mild  and 
gentle  monarch,  who  does  all  the  good  he  can.  The  former  is  compelled 
to  yield ;  and  in  the  twelfth  verse  tlie  moral  of  the  lesson  is  set  forth.  vVe 
are  airinstrumcnts  in  the  hands  of  a  Mightier  than  we.] 


.    LESSON  XXYIII. 
Why  should  We  Feae^  ? 

1.  Why  should  we  children  ever  fear^?^ 

There  is  in  heaven  an  Eye 
That  looks  with  tender  fondness  down 
On  all  the  paths  we  try. 

2.  Who  guides  the  sparrow's  tiny  wing, 

And  guards  her  little  brood^  ?^ 
Who  hears  the  ravens  when  they  cry, 
And  fills  them  all  with  food'  ?3 

3.  'Tis  He  who  clothes  the  field  with  flowers. 

And  pours  the  light  abroad' ; 
'Tis  He  who  numbers  all  the  hours — 
Our  Father,  and  our  God. 

4.  We  are  the  chosen  of  his  love\ 

His  most  peculiar  care' ; 
And  will  He  guide  the  fluttering  dove, 
And  not  regard  our  prayer'  ?^ 


62  WILLSON'S  INTERIMEDIATE  SERIES. 

6.  He'll  keep  us  when  the  storm  is  wild, 
And  when  the  flood  is  near ; 
We'll  trust  him,  as  a  little  child, 
And  we  have  nought  to  fear. 

[Lesson  XXVIII.  God  looks  down  upon  all  our  ways.  He  extends 
his  protecting  care  over  the  birds  of  heaven ;  he  clothes  the  field  with 
flowers ;  pours  the  light  abroad  for  our  good ;  and  numbers  the  hours  of 
the  day.  These  things  should  lead  us  to  put  our  trust  and  confidence  in 
him,  assured  that,  if  we  do  so,  we  have  nought  to  fear.] 


LESSON  XXIX. 
The   Blind   Boy. 

1.  Do  you  pity  tlie  poor  blind  boy^  f  Do  you 
think  lie  is  unhappy'  f  He  may  not  be  very  un- 
happy', after  all\  He  never  has  seen  the  sunlight', 
nor  the  trees  in  the  field',  nor  the  cattle  on  the 
plains',  nor  the  green  grass'  and  the  flowers\  But 
as  he  knows  not  what  sight  is',  he  knows  nothing 
of  the  loss^  of  it. 

2.  He  may  well  ask,  in  wonder, "  what  is  that 
thing  you  call  light^  V'  Can  you  tell  him'  r  Can 
you  explain  it  to  him'  V  If  he  has  never  seen  any 
thing',  how  can  you  explain  to  him  what  light  is^  ?' 
We  may  pity^  him',  for  he  is  deprived  of  many 
pleasures  that  we  enjoy^:  but  we  are  glad  to  be- 
lieve that  he  is  not  unhappy. 

3.  O  say\  what  is  that  thing  called  UgM^ 

"Which  I  can  not  enjoy^?^ 
What  are  the  blessings  of  the  sight^  ?3 
O  tell  your  poor  blind  boy. 

4.  You  talk  of  wondrous*  things  you  see^ ; 

You  say  the  sim  shines  bright^ ; 
I  feel  him  warm' ;  but  how  can  he 
Make  either  day  or  night^  ?^ 


THIRD  READEE.  68 

5.  My  day  or  night',  myself  I  make', 

Whene'er  I  sleep  or  play^ ; 
And  could  I  always  keep  awake', 
It  would  be  always  day\ 

6.  With  heavy  sighs  I  often  hear 

You  mourn  my  hapless^  wo^ ; 
But  sure,  with  pdtience^  I  can  bear 
A  loss  I  ne'er  can  know. 

1.  Then  let  not  what  I  can  not  have 
My  peace  of  mind  destroy^ ; 
Whilst  thus  I  sing',  I  am  a  Mng^^ 
Although  a  poor"  blind"  boy\ 

»  WON'-DEOtTS,  wonderful;  strange.  |  ^  Lttck'-less,  unhappy;  unfortunate. 

[Lksson  XXIX.  shows  that,  while  we  should  pity  those  who  are  born 
blind,  yet  that  God,  in  his  mercy,  has  so  made  them  that  they  shall  not 
feel  the  want  of  sight,  so  much  as  we  should  feel  the  loss  of  it.  Those  born 
blind  do  not  even  know  what  sight  is !  They  can  have  no  knowledge  of 
colors.  A  blind  person,  when  asked  what  he  thought  green  was  like,  re- 
plied, that  he  thought  it  was  like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet! — The  poetry  in 
this  lesson  is  suitable  for  declamation.] 


Resentment  and  Forgiveness. 

1.  One  day  a  gentleman  called  upon  a  judge  for 
counsel,""  and  having  stated  to  him  an  injury  that 
he  had  received  from  a  neighbor,  asked  him  if  he 
did  not  think  it  manly  to  resent  it. 

2.  "  Yes,"  said  the  judge,  "  it  would  be  manly 
to  resent  it,  but  it  would  be  Godlike  to  forgive 
it !"  This  reply  completely^  altered''  the  feelings 
of  the  applicant.^ 

*  €oun'-sel,  advice.  I  <=  Al'-teeed,  changed. 

*>  €om-plete'-ly,  entirely.  |  ^  Ap'-pli-oant,  the  one  asking  advice. 


Good  counsel  is  above  all  price. 

Be  always  more  ready  to  forgive  than  to  return  an  injury. 


64 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSOK  XXX. 
What  shall  we  Build? 


1.  Four  children  were  playing  on  the  sea-shore. 
They  had  gathered*  bright  pebbles^  and  beautiful 
shells,  and  written  their  names  in  the  pure,  white 
sand ;  but  at  last,  tired  of  their  sport,  they  were 
about  going  home,  when,  as  they  came  to  a  pile  of 
stones,  one  of  them  cried  out,  "  Oh!  let  us  build  a 
fort." 

2.  "  Yes,  yes !"  replied  Edward ;  "  let  us  build  a 
fort,  and  we  will  call  that  ship,  away  out  there,  an 
enemy's  vessel,  and  make  believe  we  are  firing  can- 
non balls  into  her  !"  And  the  two  boys — for  two 
of  the  party  were  boys,  and  two  were  girls  —  ran 
off  to  the  pile  of  stones,  and  began  removing"  them 
to  a  place  near  the  water. 


THIRD  READER.  Qd 

3.  "  Come,  Anna  and  Jane,"  said  they,  "  come 
and  help  us."  *'  Oh,  no !  don't  let  us  build  a  fort," 
said  Jane.  "  Yes^,  we  will  build  a  fort,"  replied 
the  boys.  "  What  else  can  we  build^  ?  You  would 
not  put  a  house  down  here  upon  the  water's  edge, 
would  you  ?" 

4.  "  No !  but  we  will  tell  you  what  we  can  build, 
which  will  be  much  better  than  a  fort.  We  can 
build  a  light- house,"  said  the  girls ;  "  and  that  will 
be  just  as  much  in  place  on  the  edge  of  the  sea,  as 
a  fort  would  be.  We  can  call  the  ship,  yonder,  a 
vessel  lost  in  the  darkness ;  and  we  will  hang  out 
a  light  to  direct*^  her  in  the  true  way.  Will  not 
that  be  much  better  than  to  call  her  an  enemy,  and 
build  a  fort  to  destroy  her  ? 

5.  "  See  how  beautifully  she  sits  upon  and  glides^ 
over  the  smooth  water !  Her  sails  are  like  the  open 
wings  of  a  bird,  and  they  bear  her  gracefully  along. 
Would  it  not  be  cruel  to  shoot  great  balls  into  her 
sides,  tear  her  sails  in  pieces,  and  kill  the  men  who 
are  on  board  of  her  ? 

6.  '^  Oh !  I  am  sure  it  would  make  us  all  hap- 
pier to  save  her  when  in  darkness  and  danger. 
No,  no !  let  us  not  build  a  fort,  but  a  light-house ; 
for  it  is  better  to  save  than  to  destroy." 

The  girls  spoke  tenderly  and  earnestly,  and 
their  words  reached  the  better  feelings  of  the 
boys. 

7.  "  Oh,  yes  !"  said  they ;  "  we  will  build  a  light- 
liouse,  and  not  a  fort."     And  they  did  so. 

They  were  right.  We  should  be  brave  to  resist^ 
a  real  enemy,  when  he  seeks  to  do  evil ;  but  we 


QQ  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

should  be  more  earnest  to  save  our  friends,  than 
to  destroy  our  enemies. 


»  Gath'-eeed,  collected. 

^  Peb'-bles,  smaU  round  stones. 

«=  Re-mov'-ing,  carrying. 


<i  Di-eect',  guide. 

«  Glides,  moves  gently  and  quickly. 

^  Re-sist',  oppose ;  withstand. 


[Lesson  XXX.  illustrates  the  principle  that  it  is  better  to  save,  than  to 
destroy :  better  to  do  a  kindness  to  our  friends,  than  an  injury  to  our  en- 
emies.— What  feelings  is  a  light-house  calculated  to  awaken  in  us?  A 
fort  ?  If  all  were  good,  would  there  be  any  need  of  forts,  and  jails,  and 
locks  and  bolts  for  our  doors  ?] 


LESSON  XXXI. 
TkustandTry. 

1.  Did  you  say,  Edward,  that  you  can  not  learn 
the  lesson^?'  Do  you  think  it  a  Iiard  lesson^?' 
How  do  you  know  it  is  a  hard  lesson^  f  How  can 
you  tell,  unless  you  have  t7'ied  to  learn  it^  ? 

2.  "  Can  not,"  did  you  say^  V  Can  not  try  to 
learn  it'  V  What  laey  words  those  are^ !  What 
false  words  they  are^ !  And  I  am  afraid  the  boy 
who  uses  them  is  a  lazy  boy. 

3.  Where  is  your  book\  Edward'?  "On  the 
shelf,"  did  you  say' ?  .Why  is  it  there^ ?  Can  you 
learn  your  lesson  without  the  book'  ?  Are  you  too 
lazy  to  get  your  book'  ? 

4.  Do  not  sigh'  about  it'."  Do  not  cry' !'  That 
is  not  the  way' !'  No' ;  no\  Get  your  book.  Try"" 
to  learn  your  lesson.     Try' :  try\ 

6.  "  Can  not,"  Edward,  did  you  say'  ? 
Chase  the  lazy  thought  away ; 
Never  let  such  idle  words 
From  your  lips  again  be  heard. 

6.     Take  your  book  from  off  the  shelf, 
Don't  be  lazy ;  help  yourself; 


THIED  READER 


67 


O'er  your  lesson  do  not  sigh  : 
Try  to  learn  it — trusty  and  try, 

7,  "  Can  not  help  being  naughty,"  did  you  say^?V 
And  why  not^  f  Because  you  forget  what  I  told 
you^  V  Because  you  get  angry  when  you  are  play- 
ing^ V    Is  that  the  reason  why  you  struck  Nelly'  V 

8.  But  you  must  try  not  to  forget.  You  must 
t7y  not  to  get  angry.  You  must  t^y  to  be  kind 
and  good. 

9.  "  Can  not,"  Edward'  ?     Say  not  so' ; 
All  are  weak',  full  well  I  know' ; 
But  if  you  wall  seek  the  Lord', 
He  will  needful*  strength  afford',^ 
Teach  you  how  to  conquer"  sin\ 
Purify  your  heart  within. 
On  your  Father's  help  rely ; 
He  will  aid  you — trust,  and  try. 

10.  Do  not  say  you  can  not.  Drive  such  a 
thought  away.  Try  to  do  right.  Try  to  do  your 
duty.  It  is  a  lazy  boy  who  says  he  can  not.  It  is 
a  wicked  boy  who  says  he  will  not. 

11.  "  Can  not,"  Edward'  ?     Scorn^  the  thought ; 
You  can  do  whate'er  you  ought ; 
Every  duty's  call  obey, 
Strive®  to  walk  in  wisdom's  way. 
Let  the  sluggard,  if  he  will, 
Use  the  lazy  "  can  not"  still ; 
On  yourself  and  God  rely  -J 
Do  your  duty :  trust,  and  try. 


a  Neeb'-ful,  necessary ;  requisite. 
^  Ap-fori>,  give;  grant. 
•^^  Con'-quee,  overcome. 


<*  Scorn,  de-spise ;  disdain. 

^  Strive,  try ;  labor  hard. 

*■  Re-ly',  trust  in ;  depend  upon. 


[Lesson  XXXI.  This  is  another  enforcement  of  the  principle  illus- 
trated in  Lesson  XX.  Those  only  who  "try,"  will  succeed;  while  those 
who  think  they  ^^can  not,'"  are  almost  sure  to  fail.  The  plea  of  ^^can  not 
do  right,"  is  no  excuse  for  doing  wrong.] 


68  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

LESSON  XXXII. 
"I  Can,"  and  "I  Will." 

1.  "  I  Can'  !"    He  is  a  fiery  youth\ 

And  Will',  a  brother  twin^ ; 
And,  arm  in  arm,  in  love  and  truth', 
They'll  either  die  or  win. 

2.  Shoulder  to  shoulder,  ever  ready', 

All  firm  and  fearless  still 
The  brothers  labor — true  and  steady — 
"I  Can,"  and  brave  "I  Will." 

-     3.  "I  Can"  climbs  to  the  mountain-top\ 
And  plows  the  billowy  main^ ; 
He  lifts  the  hammer  in  the  shop\ 
And  drives  the  saw  and  plane. 

4.  Then  say  ^''I  can'P     Yes,  let  it  eing^; 

There  is  a  volume  there: 
There's  meaning^  in  the  eagle's  wing' : — 
Then  soar,  and  do,  and  DARE. 

5.  Oh,  banish  from  you  every  "can'#," 

And  show  yourself  a  man ; 
And  nothing  will  your  purpose  daunt, 
Led  by  the  brave  "  I  Can." 

[Lesson  XXXII.  contains,  in  the  first  three  verses,  a  spirited  allegorical 
enforcement  of  the  principle  illustrated  in  Lessons  XX.  and  XXXI.  "I 
Can"  and  "I  Will"  are  represented  as  twin  brothers,  who  can  accomplish 
almost  any  thing  they  undertake,  by  their  united  labors.  The  same  prin- 
ciple is  expressed  in  the  old  saying,  "Where  there's  a  will,  there's  a  way." 
In  verses  four  and  five,  the  allegory  is  dropped. — This  piece  is  suitable  for 
declamation.] 

LESSON  XXXIIL"' 
The  Ceocodile  and. the  Ichneumon. — A  Fable. 

1.  A  long  time  ago  a  crocodile,  of  great  size  and 
exceeding^  fierceness,  that  dwelt  on  the  marshy 
banks  of  the  River  Nile,  by  his  ravages^  spread 


THIRD  READER.  69 

desolation''  over  the  whole  country  around.  He 
seized  the  shepherds,  together  with  the  sheep,  and 
devoured  the  herdsmen  as  well  as  the  cattle. 

2.  Growing  bold  by  success,  and  by  the  terror 
which  spread  in  advance  of  his  ravages,  he  ven- 
tured to  carry  his  incursions^  even  into  the  island 
of  Tentyra,  whose  people  had  long  boasted  that 
they  were  the  only  tamers  of  the  crocodile  race. 

3.  But  even  they  were  now  struck  with  horror* 
at  the  appearance  of  a  monster^,  so  much  more  ter- 
rible than  they  had  ever  before  seen.  Even  the 
boldest  of  them  were  afraid  to  attack  him  openly ; 
and  with  all  their  art  and  address*  it  was  in  vain 
that  they  attempted  to  surprise  him. 

4.  While  they  were  consulting  together  in  greats 
fear  and  trepidation^,  as  to  what  they  should  do 
under  these  circumstances,  an  ichneumon,  a  little 
animal  not  so  big  as  a  weasel,  stepped  forth,  and 
thus  addressed  them  : 

5.  "I  perceive  your  distress,  neighbors;  and 
though  I  can  not  assist  you  in  the  present  diffi- 
culty, yet  I  can  offer  you  some  advice  that  may  be 
of  use  to  you  in  the  future.  A  little  prudence  is 
worth  all  your  courage :  for  although  it  may  be 
glorious  to  overcome  a  great  eviF,  it  is  often  the 
wisest  way  to  prevent  it. 

6.  ^^  You  despise^  the  crocodile  while  he  is  small 
and  weak,  and  do  not  sufficiently  consider  that  he 
is  a  long-lived  animal,  and  continues  to  grow  as 
long  as  he  lives.  You  see  I  am  a  poor,  little,  feeble 
creature ;  yet  I  am  much  more  terrible  to  the  croc- 
odiles, and  more  useful  to  the  country,  than  you 


70  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

are.  I  attack  Jiim  in  tlie  egg:  and  while  you  are 
contriving  for  months  together  how  to  get  rid  of 
(me  crocodile^,  and  all  to  no  purpose',  I  easily  de- 
stroy fifty  of  them  in  a  day." 

Moral. 

7.  This  fable,  dear  boys,  is  intended  to  show 
The  danger  of  suff'ring  bad  habits  to  grow ; 
For  the  vice  of  a  week  may  be  conquer' d,  'tis  clear, 
Much  easier  than  if  it  went  on  for  a  year. 


"  Ex-oekd'-inq,  very  gi'eat ;  excessive. 
••  Rav'-a-ges,  destruction  by  violence, 
c  Des-o-la'-tion,  ruin  ;  destruction. 
^  In-cuk'-8I0N8,  inroads ;  forays. 
«  Hob'-kok,  excessive  fear ;  terror. 


'  Mon'-btek,  something  horrible. 

e  Ad-deess',  tact;  skill;  adroitness. 

^  Tkep-i-da'-tion,  a  trembling  caused  by 

excessive  fear, 
i  De-spise',  scorn  ;  regard  with  disdain. 


[Lesson  XXXIII.  illustrates  the  principle  that  it  is  much  easier  to  pre- 
vent an  evil,  than  to  overcome  it ;  or,  as  the  proverb  expresses  the  same 
truth,  that  "  an  ounce  of  prevention  is  worth  a  pound  of  cure."  The  moral 
of  the  fable  is  well  enforced  in  the  seventh  verse.] 


LESSON  XXXIY. 
How  Beaittiful  the  World  is. 

1.  How  beautiful  the  world  is^ !'"  If  we  look 
up^,we  see  tlie  blue  sky^;  if  we  look  down^^we  see 
tke  green  grass\  The  sky  is  like  a  curtain  spread 
over  our  keads^ ;  tke  grass  is  like  a  carpet  under 
our  feet^ ;  and  tke  bright  sun  is  like  a  ball  of  fire 
to  give  us  ligkt\ 

2.  Who  made  this  beautiful  world^  f  God  made 
the  world.  He  said,  "Let  there  be  light ;  and  there 
wa^  light."  He  spake',  and  it  was  done\  He 
made  the  air'  we  breathe\  the  clouds'  that  give  us 
rain\  the  waters'  that  fill  the  rivers  and  the  seas^ ; 
and  he  made  the  dry  land  also. 

3.  And  he  made  herbs',  and  plants  of  all  kinds'. 


THIRD  READER.  71 

and  trees^,  to  grow  upon  tlie  land\  And  lie  made 
the  sun,  and  placed  it  in  the  sky,  and  b^de  it 
shine  all  day.  He  made  the  moon'  to  shine  at 
night\  and  he  filled  the  sky  with  stars.  And  God 
made  man  also. 

4.  I  saw  the  glorious  sun  arise 

O'er  yonder  mountain  gray ; 
And  as  he  traveled  through  the  skies, 

The  darkness  fled  away ; 
And  all  around  me  was  so  bright 
I  wished  it  would  be  always  light. 

5.  But  when  his  shining  course  was  done, 

The  gentle  moon  drew  nigh  ; 
And  stars  came  twinkling,  one  by  one, 

Upon  the  shady  sky. 
Who  made  the  sun  to  shine  *so  far^  ? 
And  moon,  and  every  twinkling  star^  ? 

6.  'Twas  God,  my  child,  who  made  them  all 

By  his  almighty  skill ; 
He  keeps  them,  that  they  do  not  fall. 

And  guides  them  by  his  will : 
That  glorious  God,  who  lives  afar 
In  heaven,  beyond  the  brightest  star. 

[Lesson  XXXIV.  directs  attention  to  the  beautiful  world  in  which  we 
live,  the  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  etc.  ;  and  to  God  as  the  maker  and  sup- 
porter of  all.] 


LESSON  XXXV. 
The  Echo. 

1.  Little  George  had  not  the  least  idea  of  an 
echo.  One  day  he  happened  to  cry  out  in  the 
fields,  "  Ho !  ho !"  and  he  instantly  heard  the  same 
words  repeated  from  the  thicket  near  him. 

2.  Surprised  at  the  sound,  he  exclaimed,  "  Who 


72  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

are  you^  V  upon  whicli  the  voice  returned  the  same 
words,  "  Who  are  you^  ?" 

3.  George  cried  out,  "  You  must  be  a  very  fool- 
ish fellow."  "  Foolish  fellow !"  repeated  the  voice 
from  the  thicket.  George  then  began  to  grow 
angry,  and  he  uttered^  words  of  defiance^  toward 
the  spot  whence  the  sound  proceeded. 

4.  The  echo  faithfully  repeated  all  his  words. 
Then  George,  in  order  that  he  might  avenge*"  him- 
self, searched  through  the  wood  for  the  boy,  who 
he  supposed  was  mocking  him ;  but  he  could  find 
nobody. 

5.  After  searching  in  vain  for  some  time,  he  ran 
home,  and  complained  to  his  mother  that  a  wicked 
boy,  concealed  in  the  wood,  had  been  mocking  him. 

6.  "  Ah,  now  you  are  complaining  of  your  own 
self,"  replied  Ms  mother.  "You  have  heard  nothing 
but  your  own  words.  Even  as  you  have  often  seen 
your  own  face  reflected  in  the  clear  water,  so  you 
have  just  heard  yoUr  own  voice  in  the  woods. 

7.  "  K  you  had  uttered  an  exclamation  of  kind- 
ness, you  would  have  received  the  same  in  reply." 

It  is  thus  in  every-day  life.  The  conduct  of 
others  toward  us,  is  generally  an  echo  of  our  own. 
As  we  treat  them',  so  they  are  very  apt  to  treat  us\ 

■  Ut'-teeed,  spoke.  I  "  A-vbnge',  punish  the  person  who  mock- 

>»  Db-fi'-ance,  invitation  to  combat.  |         ed  him. 

[Lesson  XXXV.  This  story  of  the  little  boy  who  heard  the  echo  of  his 
own  voice,  and  got  angry  at  it,  has  a  very  good  moral,  which  is  stated  in 
the  last  verse.  Not  only  anger,  hate,  revenge,  and  all  unkindness  toward 
us,  but  goodness,  politeness,  love,  etc.,  are,  generally,  only  the  reflection  of 
our  own  conduct.  If  all  would  do  unto  others  as  they  would  have  others 
do  unto  them,  what  a  happy  world  this  would  be !] 


THIRD  READER.  73 

LESSON  XXXYI. 
A  Peep  at  the  Birds. 


The  Robin. 


1.  How  do  you  like  the  robin^?'  He  comes  to 
see  us  early  in  the  spring.  He  likes  to  build  a 
nest  in  the  apple-tree,  and  he  does  not  seem  to 
care  how  near  he  gets  to  the  house. 

2.  But  perhaps  the  blue-bird  comes  a  little  ear- 
lier than  the  robin.  Sometimes  he  comes  a  little 
too  early,  before  the  cold  weather  is  past.  He 
sings  merrily  enough  for  a  day  or  two,  when  the 
weather  is  pleasant,  and  then  he  begins  to  think 
about  building  a  nest. 

3.  But  suddenly  there  comes  a  wind  from  the 
northeast,  and  the  clouds  cover  the  sky ;  and  the 
rain — the  cold,  cold  rain  pours  down  on  the  poor 
bird  and  his  mate.  Alas !  alas !  how  cold  they 
are^  V"  But  they  get  into  as  warm  a  place  as  they 
can  find,  until  the  storm  is  over,  and  the  weather 
is  warm  again;  and  then  you  will  hear  the  blue- 
bird sing  as  merrily  as  he  did  before. 

D 


74  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

4.  Blue-birds  build  their 
f^^&s:^  _  ^-.-^  nests  in  holes  in  trees ;  but 

they  do  not  make  the  holes 
for  their  nests,  for  their 
bills  are  not  fitted  for  bor- 
ing holes.  They  often  find 
a  hole  that  some  other  bird 
The  Blue-bird.  has  made,  and  they  make 

their  home  there,  after  the  bird  has  left. 

5.  The  sparrows  are  very  little  birds.  Did  you 
ever  see  a  ground-sparrow's  nest?'  The  sparrow 
has  its  nest  in  the  grass,  and  the  eggs  are  very 
small,  and  spotted.  The  ehipping-bird,  also,  is  a 
sparrow,  but  it  builds  its  nest  in  a  bush,  or  in  a 
tree. 

6.  But  what  about  the  swallows^  f 
The  swallows^  V    Yes ;  they  are  very 
common  birds — as  common — that  is, 
as  numerous,  as  the  sparrows.    You  have 
all  seen  flocks  of  them,  I  suppose ;  those 
swauows.     of  yo-Q,  at  Icast,  who  live  in  the  country* 

7.  The  most  common  swallows  in  this  country 
are  the  barn-swallows.  They  build  their  nests — 
sometimes  quite  early  in  the  spring — under  the 
eaves  of  the  barn,  and  inside  of  the  barn  against 
the  rafters. 

8.  These  barn-swallows  are  real  masons.  They 
build  their  nests  mostly  of  mud,  which  they  carry 
in  their  little  bills.  Then  they  get  small  straws, 
and  bits  of  grass,  and  cotton,  and  wool,  and  line 
the  inside  of  their  nests,  so  as  to  make  a  warm 
place  for  the  eggs,  and  for  the  young  birds. 


THIRD  READER  75 

9.  What  a  noise  the  busy  swallows  make  around 
the  old  barn^ !  There  is  not  much  music  in  their 
song,  it  is  true :  but  who  does  not  love  to  hear  the 
merry  chattering  of  these  birds^?  They  are  so 
cheerful,  they  seem  to  enjoy  themselves  finely. 

10.  There  are  chimney-swallows,  which  build 
their  nests  in  chimneys.  The  young  birds  make 
a  great  chattering,  to  tell  the  old  birds  they  are 
hungry;  and  sometimes  those  who  live  in  the 
house  destroy  the  nests,  to  get  rid  of  the  noise. 

11.  There  are  bank-swallows,  also.  They  make 
deep  holes  in  sand-banks,  where  they  build  their 
nests.  And  in  a  distant  country  there  is  a  species 
of  swallow  that  builds  its  nest  mostly  of  a  kind  of 
gum,  which  some  people  eat,  and  which  they  are 
so  fond  of  that  these  nests  are  sold  at  a  very  high 
price. 

12.  Did  you  ever  see  a  quail'?  A  quaiF?  Cer- 
tainly I  have  seen  quails ;  and  I  have  heard  them 
too.  They  sing  a  song  that  sounds  like  more  wheat! ! 
more  wheat'!  They  like  wheat ;  and  perhaps  that 
is  the  reason  why  the  boys  say  they  sing  ^'more 
wheat!''' 

13.  In  the  winter,  quails  are  very  fat,  and  a  great 
many  of  them  are  killed  to  be  eaten.  Boys  catch 
them  in  box-traps  made  ^f  boards,  or  in  snares,  as 
they  catch  rabbits. 

14.  Did  you  ever  try  to  find  a  quail's  nest'?  No 
doubt  you  have,  if  you  have  rambled  much  in  the 
country.  But  did  you  find  it'  ?  I  think  not.  The 
quail  makes  her  nest  on  the  ground.  When  she 
sees  you  coming,  she  creeps  slily  away  from  the 


76  WILLSON'S  INTEllMEDIATE  SERIES. 

nest ;  and  when  she  thinks  she  has  gone  far  enough, 
she  makes  a  great  noise  to  attract^  your  attention. 


The  Quail  and  her  Nest. 

15.  You  think  the  nest  is  near  that  spot;  but 
the  quail  is  only  cheating  you.  She  is  very  cun- 
ning. If  you  follow  her,  she  hobbles  around  as  if 
she  could  neither  run  nor  fly ;  but  when  she  has 
led  you  far  enough  from  the  nest,  she  starts  up 
suddenly,  and  flies  rapidly  away. 

16.  The  partridge  is  another  cunning  bird — -just 
as  cunning  as  the  quail.  She  has  played  the  boys 
a  trick  many  a  time.  This  is  the  way  she  does  it. 
The  boy  hears  the  partridge  fluttering  in  the  leaves, 
and  making  a  great  noise,  as  if  her  nest  were  there, 
and  as  if  she  were  afraid  the  little  fellow  would 
find  it.  ♦ 

17.  When  the  boy  runs  to  the  place,  the  bird 
limps  along,  and  flutters  as  if  her  wings  were 
broken.  But,  my  boy,  you'll  not  find  that  nest ; 
for  the  nest  is  away  in  another  direction. 

18.  The  truth  is,  when  the  partridge  sees  the 
boy — and  she  sees  him  when  he  is  a  great  way  off 


THIRD  READER. 


The  rartridge. 


— she  covers  her  nest  with  leaves,  and  creeps  off 
quite  a  distance,  and  so  slily  that  he  can  neither 
see  her  nor  hear  her;  and  when  the  boy  has  fol- 
lowed her  far  enough,  she  starts 
up,  and  flies  away  "on  \yhirring 
wings,"  like  the  quail. 

19.  But  let  us  talk  about  some 

of  the  larger  birds.     The  peacock, 

you  know,  is  called  a  proud  bird. 

He  acts  as  if  he  thought  every  body 

was  looking  at  him,  and  admiring 

his  beauty.     He  is  rather  a  pretty 

bird,  to  be  sure ;  but  why  need  he 

be  so  proud  of  it^  ? 

20.  There   is   the   peacock's  friend,  the    swan. 

He  is  a  much  more  useful  bird  than  the  peacock, 

and  has  much  more  to  be  proud  of     Perhaps  he, 

too,  has  a  little  pride.      He  is  rather  awkward 


The  Peacock. 


78 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


The  Swan. 


wten  lie  waddles  about  on  tlie 
land ;  but  just  let  him  get  into 
the  water,  and  then  look  at  him ! 
21.  How  prettily  he  paddles 
himself  along^ !  How  graceful- 
ly he  curves  his  neckM  The 
peacock  could  not  swim  like  him.  In  fact,  I  do  not 
believe  he  could  swim  at  all.  Pride  has  a  bad 
look,  wherever  you  see  it.  To  be  proud  of  one's 
dre88  is  the  most  foolish  of  all  pride. 

22.  Who  has  not  read  about 
the  eagle^  ?  He  is  a  noble  bird. 
He  will  not  feed  on  carrion.^ 
He  flies  very  high  in  the  air,  and 
does  not  often  come  where  men 
Many  stories  are  told  of  the  eagle, 
but  we  have  not  room  for  any  of  them  here. 

23.  The  vulture  is  a  large  bird,  and  has  very 
filthy''  habits.     Unlike  the  eagle,  he  feeds  on  car- 
rion, which  he  scents^  at  a  great  dis- 
tance; and  when  he  finds  it  he  greed- 
ily^ devours  it,  like  a  glutton.^ 

24.  People  who  are  all  the  time 
searching  out  the  faults  of  others, 
and  talking  about  their  failings,  are 
sometimes  likened^  to  the  vulture — 
they  so  much  delight  in  finding  out 
all  that  is  impure  and  bad. 


The  Eagle. 

can  shoot  him 


The  Vulture. 


25.  What  are  another's  faults  to  me^  ? 
I've  not  a  vulture's  bill, 
To  pick  at  every  flaw  I  see, 
And  make  it  wider  stiir. 


THIRD  READER.  79 

It  is  enough  for  me  to  know 

I've  follies  of  my  own\ 
And  on  myself  my  care  bestow, 

Let  others'  faults  alone. 


«  At-teact',  draw ;  engage. 
•»  Cab'-ei-on,  putrid  flesh. 
=  Filth'-y,  dirty;  nasty, 
'I  ScKNTs,  smells. 


e  Geeei)'-i-ly,  voraciously ;  ravenously. 
f  Glut' -TON,  a  voracious  eater, 
e  Li'-kened,  compared. 


[Lesson  XXXVI.  is  a  brief  description  of  the  habits  of  the  robin,  blue- 
bird, sparrows,  three  kinds  of  swallows,  quail,  partridge,  peacock,  swan, 
eagle,  and  vulture.  Why  are  fault-finders,  and  slanderers,  likened  to  the 
vulture  ?] 


LESSON  XXXVII. 

I   WOULD   I   WERE   A   LiTTLE   BiKD. 

The  Little  GirVs  Wish. 

1.  I  would  I  were  a  little  bird, 

To  fly  so  far  and  high ; 
And  sail  along  the  golden  clouds, 

And  through  the  azure*  sky. 
I'd  be  the  first  to  see  the  sun 

Up  from  the  ocean  spring ; 
And  ere  it  touch'd  the  glittering^  spire,* 

His  ray  should  gild^  my  wing. 

2.  Above  the  hills  Fd  watch  him  still, 

And  down  the  crimson  west ; 
And  sing  to  him  my  evening  song, 

Ere  yet  I  sought  my  rest. 
And  many  a  land  I  then  should  see. 

As  hill  and  plain  I  cross'd ; 
Nor  fear,  through  all  the  pathless  sky. 

That  I  should  e'er  be  lost. 

3.  I'd  fly  where,  round  the  olive  boughs 

The  vine  its  tendril®  weaves ; 
And  shelter  from  the  noonbeams  seek 
Among  the  myrtle  leaves. 


80 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


Now,  if  I  climb  our  highest  liill, 

How  little  can  I  see'  l^^ 
Oh,  if  I  had  but  wings,  marama, 

How  happy  should  I  be' ! 

The  Mother's  Ee2:>ly. 

4.  Wings  can  not  soar  above  the  sky, 

As  thou  in  thought  canst  do ; 
Nor  can  the  veiling^  clouds  confine 

Thy  mental  eye's^  keen  view. 
Not  to  the  sun  dost  thou  chant  forth 

Thy  simple  evening  hymn  ; 
Thou  praisest  Him,  before  whose  smile 

The  noonday's  sun  grows  dim. 

5.  Though  strong  and  free,  the  bird  may  droop, 

Or  bars  restrain  its  flight ; 
Thought  none  can  stay ;  more  swift  its  speed 

Than  snowy  beams  of  light. 
A  lovelier  clime  the  bird  may  seek, 

With  summer  go  and  come — 
Beyond  the  earth  awaits  for  thee 

A  bright  eternal  home. 


»  Az'-UBE,  light  blue. 

^  Glit'-ter-ing,  shining. 

"  Spiee,  steeple. 

'^  Gild,  cause  to  shine  like  gold. 


Ten'-t>ril,  a  slender,  twining  part  of  a 

plant. 
Veil'-ing,  hiding :  concealing. 
"Mental  Eye,"  the  raind'a  eye. 


[In  Lesson  XXXVII.,  a  little  girl  expresses  the  delight  she  thinks  she 
should  feel,  if  she  coidd  soar  away  on  winj^s,  like  a  bird,  and  visit  distant 
lands.  It  is  a  childish  dream  of  happiness,  which  the  mother  avails  her- 
self of  for  a  beautiful  moral  lesson.  In  her  reply  she  tells  the  little  girl 
that  thought  can  soar  higher  than  wings,  and  fly  swifter  than  light ;  and, 
linally,  contrasts  the  bird's  evening  song  to  the  sun,  with  the  child's  even- 
ing hymn  ;  and  the  sunny  southern  home  of  the  bird,  with  the  child's  eter- 
nal lioine.  ] 


THIRD  READER 


81 


LESSON  XXXYIII. 
Old  Wonder-eyes. 

1.  When  Grace  Green- 
wood was  in  England, 
she  visited  a  family  who 
lived  in  a  large  house 
in  the  country,  around 
which  were  beautiful  gar- 
dens, and  green  lawns,"" 
and  a  great  many  pet^ 
animals,  such  as  dogs, 
rare  white  kittens,  gay 
parrots,  canaries,''  and  silver  pheasants. 

2.  One  of  these  pets  was  an  owl,  that  sat  all 
alone  by  himself  in  a  large  green  cage.  He  was  a 
cross  and  surly^  old  fellow.  Grace  Greenwood 
says,  in  her  book  called  the  Little  Pilgrim,  "  I  tried 
very  hard  to  make  friends  with  this  owl,  but  it  was 
of  no  use :  he  never  treated  me  with  decent  civil- 

ity.^ 

3.  "  One  day,  when  I  was  offering  him  a  bit  of 
cake,  he  caught  my  finger,  and  bit  it  till  it  bled ; 

and  I  said  to  Mrs.  M , '  Why  do  you  keep  that 

cross  old  creature^?  I  noticed^  that  my  friend 
looked  sad  when  she  answered  me,  saying, '  We 
only  keep  him  for  our  dear  little  Minnie's  sake: 
he  was  her  pet.'  I  had  never  heard  of  little  Min- 
nie, so  I  asked  about  her,  and  was  told  the  follow- 
ing story." 


4.  Minnie  was  a  sweet,  gentle  little  girl,  who 

D2 


82  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

loved  every  body  and  every  creature  that  God  has 
made ;  and  every  body  and  every  creature  she  met 
seemed  to  love  her.  Rough  people  were  gentle  to 
her,  and  cross  people  were  kind.  She  could  go  up 
to  vicious^  horses,  and  fierce  dogs,  and  spitefuP  cats, 
and  they  would  become  quiet  and  mild.  I  don't 
think  any  thing  could  resist  her  loving  eyes,  unless 
it  were  a  mad  bull  or  a  setting  hen. 

5.  One  night,  as  Minnie  lay  awake  in  her  little 
bed,  in  the  nursery,  listening  to  a  summer  rain,  she 
heard  a  strange  fluttering  and  scratching  in  the 
chimney,  and  she  called  to  her  nurse,  and  said, 
"  Biddy^ !'  what  is  that  funny  noise  up  there^  ?'" 
Biddy  listened  a  moment,  and  said,  "  Sure,  it's 
nothing  but  a  stray  rook\'  Now  he's  quite  gone 
away^ — so  go  to  sleep  wid  ye,  my  darling' !" 

6.  Minnie  tried  to  go  to  sleep,  like  a  good  girl ; 
but  after  a  while  she  heard  that  sound  again,  and 
presently  something  came  fluttering  and  scratching 
right  down  into  the  grate,  and  out  into  the  room ! 
Minnie  called  again  to  Biddy;  but  Biddy  was  tired 
and  sleepy,  and  woulcPnt  wake  up. 

7.  It  was  so  dark  that  Minnie  could  see  nothing, 
and  she  felt  a  little  strange ;  but  she  was  no  cow- 
ard ;  and  as  the  bird  seemed  very  quiet,  she  went 
to  sleep  again  after  a  while,  and  dreamed  that  great 
flocks  of  rooks  were  flying  over  her,  slowly,  slowly, 
and  making  the  darkness  with  their  jet-black 
wings. 

8.  She  awoke  very  early  in  the  morning,  and  the 
first  thing  she  saw  was  a  great  gray  owl,  perched  J 
on  the  bed-post  at  her  feet,  staring  at  her  with  his 


THIRD  READER.  83 

big,  round  eyes.  He  did  not  fly  off  when  she 
started  up  in  bed,  but  only  ruffled  up  his  feathers 
and  said,  "  Who !"  Minnie  had  never  before  seen 
an  owl ;  but  she  was  not  afraid,  and  she  answered^ 
merrily,  "  You'd  better  say  '  Who  !'  Why,  who  are 
you  yourself,  you  queer  old  Wonder-eyes^ !" 

9.  Then  she  awoke  Biddy,  who  was  dreadfully 
frightened ;  and  Biddy  called  up  John,  the  man- 
servant, who  caught  the  owl,  and  put  him  into  a 
cage. 

10.  This  strange  bird  was  ill-natured  and  gruff*' 
to  every  body  but  Minnie :  he  seemed  to  be  fond 
of  her  from  the  first.  So  he  was  called  "  Minnie's 
Pet."  He  would  take  food  from  her  little  hand: 
he  would  perch  on  her  shoulder,  and  let  her  take 
him  on  an  airing  around  the  garden;  and  some- 
times he  would  sit  and  watch  her  studying  her  les- 
sons, and  look  as  Avise  and  solemn  as  a  learned  pro- 
fessor, till  he  would  fall  to  winking  and  blinking, 
and  go  off  into  a  sound  sleep. 

11.  Minnie  grew  really  fond  of  this  pet,  grave 
and  unsocial  as  he  was ;  but  she  always  called  him 
by  the  saucy  name  she  had  first  given  him — Old 
Wonder-eyes. 

12.  In  the  winter-time  little  Minnie  was  taken 
ill,  and  she  grew  worse  and  worse,  till  her  friends 
all  knew  that  she  was  going  to  leave  them  very 
soon.  Darling  little  Minnie  was  not  sorry  to  die. 
As  she  had  loved  every  body  and  every  creature 
that  God  had  made,  she  could  not  help  loving  God, 
and  she  was  not  afraid  to  go  to  Him  when  He 
called  her. 


84 


WILLSON'S  INTER^VIEDIATE  SERIES. 


18.  The  day  before  she  died  she  gave  all  her 
pets  to  her  brothers  and  sisters ;  but  she  said  to 
her  mother, ''  You  take  good  care  of  poor  old  Won- 
der-eyes, for  he'll  have  nobody  to  love  him  when 
I  am  gone," 

14.  The  owl  missed  Minnie  very  much;  and 
Avhenever  he  heard  any  one  coming,  he  would  cry, 
''  Who !"  and  when  he  found  it  wasn't  his  friend, 
he  would  ruffle  up  his  feathers,  and  look  as  though 
he  felt  himself  insulted.  He  grew  crosser  and 
crosser  every  day,  till  there  would  have  been  no 
bearing  with  him,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  mem- 
ory of  Minnie. 

15.  Such  was  the  story  told  me  of  the  old  owl. 
When  I  next  saw  him,  sitting  glaring^  and  growl- 
ing on  his  perch,  I  understood  why  he  was  so  un- 
happy and  sullen.  My  heart  ached  for  him — but 
so  did  the  finger  he  had  bitten ;  and  I  did  not  ven- 
ture very  near  to  tell  him  how  sorry  I  was  for  him. 
When  I  think  of  him  now,  I  don't  blame  him,  but 
pity  him  for  his  crossness ;  and  I  always  say  to  my- 
self, '•^Foor  old  Wonder-eyes^ 


»  Lawn,  a  space  of  ground  covered  with 

grans. 
^  Pet,  treated  as  a  pet ;  fonrlled. 

*  €a-na'-ky,  a  soDg-bird  from  the  Canary 

Isles. 
•*  Puk'-lt,  gloomily  cross  or  morose ;  sullen. 

*  Ci-vil'-i-ty,  politeness. 


'  No'-TicEP,  observed  ;  sa-w. 

e  Vi"-cious,  untamed;  unruly. 

•>  Spite'-ftti.,  malicious. 

'  lIooK,  a  bird  resembling  a  crow. 

1  Peecii'ki),  roosting  or  sitting  as  a  bird. 

*■  Gbcff,  stern ;  surly ;  ill-natured. 

•  Glab'  iNG,  looking  with  fierce  eyes. 


[Lesson  XXXVIII.  The  interesting  story  of  "Old  Wonder-eyes"  sets 
fortli  the  beautiful  character  of  a  gentle  little  girl,  who  loved  all  God's 
creatures,  and  who  seemed  to  be  loved  by  them  in  return.  There  is  a 
f'harm  about  gentleness  and  goodness  which  is  not  lost,  even  upon  the 
brute  creation,  as  is  shown  in  the  attachment  which  the  ill-natured  and 
P'uff  owl  formed  for  little  Minnie.  Let  the  teacher  illustrate  the  principle 
farther,  by  narrating  other  instances  of  affection,  on  the  part  of  animals, 
for  those  who  treat  tliem  kindly.  Such  is  the  story  of  "  Androclcs  and  the 
Lion,"  etc.] 


THIRD  READER 


85 


LESSON  XXXIX. 
Father    and   Daughtee. 


1.  Is  the  man  asleep^  V  Why  do  you  think  he 
is  asleep^  V  His  eyes^  are  closed^ ;'  and  is  not  that 
a  sign  that  he  is  sleeping^  V  Perhaps  he  shuts  his 
eyes  because  they  are  weak\  Do  you  think  that 
is  the  reason^  V     Who  thinks  that  is  the  reason^  V 

2.  I  think  he  is  listening  to  the  little  girl  who  is 
reading.  But  who  is  tliis  little  girP?"  Do  you 
think  she  is  his  daughter'?'     What  book  do  you 


36  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

suppose  she  is  reading^  f  Do  you  think  it  is  the 
Bible'?'  It  must  be  some  book  that  interests  her 
very  much. 

3.  Can  you  describe  this  man'  V  Let  me  hear 
you  describe  him.  Is  he  an  old  man',  or  a  young 
man^  V  He  is  a  middle-aged  man.  But  how  old 
is  a  middle-aged  man^f  A  middle-aged  man  is 
one  who  is  between  thii*ty-five  and  forty*  years  of 

age. 

4.  This  man  is  not  old\  for  his  face  is  not  wrin- 
kled'/ nor  is  his  head  bald^ :  but  whether  his  hair 
is  gray\  or  not'/  who'  can  teir  f  He  does  not  ap- 
pear to  be  a  laboring  man^ — that  is,  a  workman  in 
the  fields.     He  is  not  dressed  like  a  laboring  man. 

5.  He  is  sitting  with  his  left  elbow  resting  on  a 
round  table,  and  with  his  face  resting  upon  his 
hand.  Can  you  see  a  finger  of  his  left  hand'?* 
Which  finger  can  you  see^?'  Where  is  his  other 
hand^?'  On  which  knee  is  it  resting^?'  Has  he 
hold  of  his  daughter's  left  hand',  or  her  rigid 
hand^?^ 

6.  Do  you  think  he  is  a  student'?'  Wliy  do 
you  think  he  is  a  student^  f  Do  you  see  any  hooT^s 
near  him'?'  There  are  books  on  the  floor','  and 
books  on  the  table\  How  many  books  do  you  see 
on  the  floor^  V     How  many  on  the  table^  ? 

7.  Can  you  tell  how  this  man  is  dressed'  ?'  Does 
he  wear  a  cloak',  or  a  coat'?'  No;  neither.  He 
has  on  a  student's  gown,  which  is  drawn  together 
around  the  waist  by  a  cord,  one  end  of  which,  with 
the  tassel,  can  be  seen. 

8.  How  old  do  you  think  the  little  girl  is^  ?     In 


THIRD  READER.  87 

what  part  of  the  book  is  she  reading^  ?  Why  do 
you  think  she  is  reading  near  the  middle  of  the 
book^? 

9.  Parent  and  child^ !'"  Father  and  daughter^  !^" 
What  earthly  affection  is  purer  than  a  parent's 
love  for  a  dutiful  child^ !'°  What  is  more  pleasing 
than  a  child's  love  for  a  kind  and  indulgent  par- 
ent' !" 

*  See  Note  to  Rule  IV.  s  See  Eule  V.,  Note  II. 

[Lesson  XXXIX.  This,  besides  being  a  useful  lesson  on  emphasis, 
and  the  inflections,  is  another  illustration  of  the  principle  of  object  teach- 
ing from  pictures.] 


LESSON  XL. 
A  Father's  Blessing. 

1.  My  father  raised  his  trembling  hand, 

And  laid  it  on  my  head^ ; 
"  God  bless  thee,  O  my  son,  my  son^ !" 
Most  tenderly  he  said. 

2.  He  died,  and  left  no  wealth  of  gold  : 

But  still  I  was  his  heir ; 
For  that  rich  blessing  which  he  gave 
Became  a  fortune  rare. 

3.  Now,  in  my  weary  hours  of  toil 

To  earn  my  daily  bread'. 
It  gladdens  me  in  thought  to  feel 
His  hand  upon  my  head. 

4.  Though  many  years  of  busy  life 

Have  passed  away  since  then, 
Yet  when  I  bring  that  scene  to  mind, 
I'm  but  a  child  again. 

[Lesson  XL.  is  a  brief  but  touching  description  of  a  father  blessing 
his  son,  and  of  the  deep  affection  with  which  the  remembrance  of  the  event 
was  treasured  up  in  after  life  by  the  latter.] 


88  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

LESSON"  XLI. 
The  Daisy's  Social  Circle. 

1.  A  daisy  was  just  starting  up  in 
the  meadow  One  might  have  thought 
it  a  lonely  place  to  live  in ;  but  a  so- 
cial circle  was  already  forming  around 
the  little  plant. 

2.  The  sunbeam  and  the  dew-drop 
met  there ;  the  gentle  rain  came  patter- 
ing down ;  and  the  soft  summer  breeze 

English  Daisy,  came  whlsperlug  through  the  tall  grass ; 
and  the  earth  around  the  tiny  roots  took  the  light, 
the  water,  and  the  air,  to  her  bosom,  and  introduced 
them  to  the  daisy  germ ;  and  they  all  went  to  work 
to  show  that  flower  to  the  sun.  Each  lent  its  in- 
fluence^ to  nurse  the  little  thing  with  an  aliment*' 
that  made  it  grow. 

3.  And  when  the  daisy  raised  its  eyes  toward 
the  sky,  its  companions  wove  a  soft  carpet  of  grass 
for  its  feet.  And  the  sun  looked  down  through 
the  green  leaves,  and  smiled  as  he  passed  on.  The 
daisy  lifted  up  its  head;  and,  one  morning,  while 
the  sun  was  looking  upon  the  dews,  the  little  plant 
put  on  its  silver-rimmed  diadem,*^  and  showed  its 
yellow  petals.^ 

4.  And  it  nodded  to  the  little  birds  that  were 
swimming^  in  the  sky.  And  all  of  them  that  had 
silver-lined  wdngs  came^ ;  and  birds  in  black,  and 
gray,  and  Quaker-brown  came^ ;  and  the  blue-bird, 
and  the  courtesying  yellow-bird  came^ ;  and  each 
sung  its  own  pretty  song  at  the  coronation^  of  the 
daisy. 


THIRD  READER  89 

5.  Every  thing  that  sung  for,  or  shone  upon, 
that  modest  flower,  was  a  member  of  that  social 
circle.  Heaven,  earth,  sky  and  sea,  were  the  com- 
panions of  the  daisy :  the  sun  and  stars  walked 
hand  in  hand  with  it,  as  kindly  as  if  they  had 
never  seen  another  flower,  or  had  another  compan- 
ion. And  all  were  happy,  for  they  loved  one  an- 
other. 


°^  So'-ciAL,  inclined  to  society;  friendly. 
^  In'-fltt-knck,  aid;  asdrftance ;  power. 
*=  Al'-t-ment,  food  ;  nourishment. 
**  Di'-A-DEM,  crown. 


«  Pet'-als,  the  flower-leaves  of  the  plant. 
f  Swim'-mino,  flying;  sailing. 
s  Cor-o-na'-tion,  the  ceremony  of  crown- 
ing. 


[Lesson  XLI.  Under  the  allegory  of  the  daisy  and  her  companions, 
the  circumstances  attending  the  growth  of  the  former  are  briefly  described. 
Let  the  teacher  explain,  as  well  as  he  can,  how  the  air,  the  sunlight,  the 
dew,  the  rain,  and  the  earth,  combine  to  make  the  daisy  grow.  See  Fourth 
Reader,  pages  182-3,  192-3,  207-8,  etc.] 


LESSON  XLII. 
The   Selfish   Boy. 

1.  What  a  selfish*  boy  Matthew  wasM  You 
would  not  have  given  a  fig  to  play  with  him.  He 
had  carpenter's  tools,  and  books,  and  pencils,  and 
paper,  and  a  brush  and  colors,  and  balls,  and  kites, 
and  little  shijDS,  and  skates,  and  snow-shovels,  and 
sleds.  How  pleasant  Matthew  might  have  made 
it  for  his  visitors. 

2.  But  if  you  went  to  play  with  him  on  Satur- 
day afternoon,  he  would  watch  all  his  playthings 
as  closely  as  a  cat  would  a  mouse ;  and  if  you  went 
near  them,  he  would  sing  out — "  D-o-n-'t^ ;  t-h-a-t-'s. 
ra-i-n-e' !" 

3.  Of  course,  it  was  not  much  fun  to  go  and  see 
him.     You  had  to  play  every  thing  he  wished  you 


90  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

to,  or  lie  would  pout,  and  say  lie  would'nt  play 
at  all. 

4.  He  had  slices  of  cake,  that  he  had  kept  till 
they  were  as  hard  as  his  heart;  and  cents,  and 
dimes,  and  half  dimes,  that  he  would  handle,  and 
jingle,  and  count  over,  like  any  little  miser.^  All 
the  beggars  in  the  world  could  not  have  coaxed*' 
one  out  of  his  pocket,  if  they  had  been  starving  to 
death. 

5.  Then  Matthew  was  such  a  cry-baby.  We  all 
love  a  hra/oe  boy.  Matthew  would  go  screaming 
to  his  mother  if  he  got  a  scratch,  as  if  a  wild  tiger 
were  after  him ;  and  if  you  said  any  thing  to  him 
about  it,  he  would  pout,  and  stick  out  his  lips,  and 
be  sullen  tor  an  hour. 

6.  It  was  like  drawing  teeth  to  get  him  to  go 
across  the  room  to  hand  you  a  book.  He  ought  to 
have  had  a  little  world  all  to  himself,  ought  he 
not^  ?     What  a  selfish  boy  he  was^ ! 

7.  But  I  pitied  him.  I  could  not  help  it.  There 
was  nothing  childlike  about  him.  He  always 
seemed  to  me  like  a  miserly  little  old  man.  He 
never  tossed  his  cap  up  in  the  air,  and  laughed  a 
good  hearty  laugh.  He  never  sprang,  or  ran,  or 
climbed,  or  shouted,  as  other  boys  do. 

8.  No:  selfish  Matthew  crawled  around  as  if 
he  haS.  leaden  weights  on  his  heels.  When  he 
talked  he  scarcely  moved  his  lips;  and  his  face 
was  as  long  as — I  was  going  to  say,  as  long  as 
my  arm. 

9.  When  his  mother  was  told  of  his  faults,  and 
asked  why  she  did  not  make  him  do  better^  and 


THIRD  READER  91 

make  him  act  differently,  she  would  say,  "  Oh,  he 
will  outgrow  his  faults  by-and-by."  But  I  knew 
better.  I  knew  that  if  his  faults  were  not  correct- 
ed, his  selfishness  would  grow  as  fast  as  Tie  'Jrew ; 
and  that  when  he  came  to  be  a  man,  he  would  be 
unfeeling  to  the  poor,  and  make  hard  bargains  with 
them,  and  wring  the  last  penny  out  of  their  thread- 
bare pockets. 

10.  Poor  Matthew^ !  He  was  so  selfish,  he  could 
never  be  happy^ !  No :  he  could  never  know  the 
pleasure  of  making  a  sad  face  bright,  or  of  drying 
up  the  tear  of  the  despairing.^  And  when  the 
selfish  man  dies,  he  can  not  carry  his  money  with 
him ;  he  will  have  to  leave  it.  And  who,  do  you 
Suppose,  will  mourn  for  him^  ? 

11.  Children^  childrenM  le  generous".  If  you 
have  only  half  a  stick  of  candy,  give  somelody  a 
part  of  it.  Perhaps  some  child  will  say, "  But  I 
have  nothing  to  give."  That's  a  mistake.  There 
is  not  a  boy  or  girl  living,  who  has  nothing  to 
give. 

12.  Give  good  wishes.  Give  kind  words  and 
smiles  to  the  sad  and  weary-hearted.  If  a  little 
child,  who  is  poorly  clad,  goes  to  your  school,  with 
his  clothes  patched,  darned — ^nay,  even  ragged ;  if 
the  tear  starts  to  his  eye  when  your  school-mates 
laugh  at  him,  and  shun  him,  and  refuse  to  play 
with  him — just  go  right  up  and  put  your  arms 
around  his  neck,  and  ask  him  to  play  with  you, 

18.  That  is  what  you  can  do.  That  is  what  you 
can  give.  Love  him.  Love  is  sometimes  worth 
more  than  food,  and  drink,  and  clothing.    You  can 


92 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


all  love  the  sad  and  sorrowful, 
you  have  ^''nothing  to  giver 

•  Self'-isii,  regarding  one's  own  interest 
chieAr.  [wealth. 


Then  never  say 


«>  Ml' 


'  one  who  cares  for  nothing  but 


«  Coax'ed,  persuaded  by  flattery. 
^  Db-8Paie'-i*q,  thorie  without  hope. 


[Lesson  XLII.  This  lesson  describes  the  character  of  the  extremely 
selfish  boy,  who,  although  he  deserves  our  censure,  is  to  be  pitied  also,  for 
lie  can  never  be  happy.  Such  a  boy  will  be  apt  to  become  a  hard-hearted, 
unfeeling,  miserly  old  man,  shunned  and  despised  by  all.  Children!  listen 
to  the  advice  given  in  the  last  three  verses  of  this  lesson.] 


LESSON  XLIII. 
The  Lost   Camel. 

1.  A  dervis""  was  journeying  alone  in  the  desert, 
when  two  merchants  suddenly  met  him.  "You 
have  lost  a  camel,"  said  he  to  the  merchants.  "In- 
deed we  have,"  they  replied.  "  Was  he  not  blind 
in  his  right  eye,  and  lame  in  his  left  leg'  V  said  the 
dervish 

2.  "  He  was,"  replied  the  merchants.  "  Had  he 
lost  a  front  tooth'?"  said  the  dervish  "He  had," 
rejoined^  the  merchants.  "And  was  he  not  loaded, 
with  honey  on  one  side,  and  corn  on  the  other' T 
"Most  certainly  he  was\"  they  replied;  "and  as 
you  have  seen  him  so  lately,  and  describe  him  so 
well,  we  suppose  you  can  conduct  us  to  him." 

3.  "  My  friends,"  said  the  dervis',  "  I  have  never 
seen  your  camel,  nor  ever  heard  of  him,  but  from 
yourselves."  "A  pretty  storj^,  trulyM"  said  the 
merchants :  "but  where  are  the  jewels  which  formed 
a  part  of  his  burden^  ?"""  "  I  have  neither  seen  your 
camel,  nor  your  jewels,"  repeated  the  dervis. 

4.  On  this  they  seized  him,  and  took  him  to  the 


THIRD  READER. 


93 


cadi,^  where,  on  the  strictest  search,  nothing  could 
be  found  against  him ;  nor  could  any  evidence*"  be 
produced  to  prove  him  guiltyy  either  of  falsehood 
or  of  theft.  They  were  then  about  to  proceed 
against  him  as  a  sorcerer/  when  the  dervis,  with 
great  calmness,  thus  addressed  the  court : 

5.  "  I  have  been  tnuch  amused  with  your  sur- 
prise, and  own  that  there  has  been  some  ground 
for  you  to  think  that  I  have  been  deceiving  you : 
but  I  have  lived  long,  and  alone ;  and  have  found 
ample^  room  for  observation,  even  in  a  desert. 

6.  "  I  knew  Jihat  I  had  crossed  the  track  of  a 
camel  that  had  strayed^'  from  its  owner,  because  I 
saw  no  mark  of  any  human  footsteps  on  the  same 
route:  I  knew  that  the  animal  was  blind  of  one 
eye,  because  it  had  cropped'  the  herbage  only  on 
one  side  of  its  path ;  and  I  perceived^  that  it  was 
lame  in  one  leg,  from  the  faint  impression^  one  foot 
had  made  upon  the  sand. 

7.  "1  also  concluded  that  the  animal  had  lost 
one  tooth,  because,  wherever  it  had  grazed,  a  small 
tuft  of  herbage  was  left  uninjured,  in  the  centre  of 
its  bite.  As  to  that  which  formed  the  burden''  of 
the  beast,  the  busy  ants  informed^  me  that  it  was 
corn  on  the  one  side ;  and  the  clustering  flies,  that 
it  was  honey  on  the  other." 


•  Der'-vis,  a  Turkish  priest  or  monk. 
''  Re-join'et>,  replied  ;  answered. 

•■  Bur'-den,  load. 

•^  (Ja'-di,  a  Turkish  judge. 

•  Ev'-i-PENCE,  proof;  testimony. 
'  Sou'-CE-KEK,  a  magician. 


f  Am'-ple,  abundant. 

"  Stray'ed,  wandered. 

'  Cuop'rET),  eaten  off. 

I  T'ek-oeiv'ed,  knew. 

^  Im-psf.8'-sion,  mark  made  by  presgure. 

'  In-form'ed,  made  known. 


[Lesson  XLIII.  This  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  principle  of  correct 
object  instruction.  It  shows  how  much  may  be  learned  by  carefully  no- 
ticing and  studying  whatever  passes  under  our  observation.] 


94 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  XLIY. 
The  Captive  Bird's  Complaint. 


1.  I  wonder  what  my  wings  were  made  for\ 

Fluttering,  active,  restless  things^ ! 
If  this  cage  is  all  of  bird-land', 

Tell  me  why  a  bird  has  wings\  * 

2.  Shaking,  hopping,  waiting,  restive',* 

How  I  long  for  once  to  fly^ ! 
How  my  aching  pinions^  tremble^ ! 
Give  me  life',  or  let  me  die\ 

3.  Yonder,  in  a  deep-green  cedar'. 

Fair  as  lignt,  and  light  as  air', 
Shouts  aloud  a  joyous  robin^ : 
If  you  love"  me',  send  me  there\ 

4.  Better  any  thing^  with  freedom', 

Than  to  know  that  one  has  wings, 
And  must  ever  keep  them  fettered  f 
Slavery  hath  a  thousand  stings. 


THIRD  READER.  95 

5.  Oh,  this  cage^ !  it  does  not  fit^  me : 
I'm  not  made  for  it,  I  know : 
Mine  is  yonder  azure^  heaven — 
If  you  love"  me',  let  me  go\ 

■  Re8t'-ive,  uneasy.  I  •=  Fet'-teeed,  confined. 

''  Pin '-IONS,  wings.  |  ^  Az'-uke,  light  blue. 

[Lesson  XLIV.  "  The  Captive  Bird's  Complaint" — a  sigh  for  free- 
dom— is  a  touching  appeal  against  the  cruelty  of  imprisoning  the  song- 
sters of  the  grove.     See,  also,  Lessons  XVIII.  and  XIX.] 


LESSON  XLY. 

The  Crickets  on  the  Hearth. 

"  On  a  lone  winter  evening,  when  the  frost 
Has  wrought  a  silence,  from  the  hearth  there  thrills 
The  cricket's  song." 

1.  Bless  the  crickets,  with  their  merry  voices," 
sa^d  Aunt  Mary.  "  What  shrill""  notes^  they  send 
up  from  the  kitchen  below !  How  they  chirp ! 
chirp !  as  if  they  were  having  a  merry  time  down 
there." 

2.  "  The  merry  voices  of  the  crickets^,  did  you 
say'?  But  the  cricket  lias  no  voice\  Did  you 
know  that'  ?" 

^'  Then  how  can  the  cricket  sing\?  How  can  he 
chirp^?  Is  not  that  the  cricket's  voic^  f  And 
don't  you  hear  him  now'  ?" 

3.  "Yes,  yes.  I  liear  him'.  But  he  does  not 
make  that  noise  with  his  niouth\but  by  rubbing 
his  two  outer  wings  together.  The  cricket  is  no 
singer — ^but  a  very  good  fiddler.  Just  watch  him 
when  he  makes  that  noise — but  do  not  frighten 
him — and  you  can  see  how  he  does  it." 


96  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

4.  "  That  is  very  strange^  iiideed\"  said  Willie. 
"  I  thought,  as  Aunt  Mary  did,  that  it  was  a  miuj 
which  the  cricket  sung.  But  I  like  to  hear  it,  for 
Uncle  John  says,  ^  to  have  a  cricket  on  the  hearth,'" 
is  the  luckiest  thing  in  the  world.' " 


The  Crickets  in  the  Kitchen. 


5.  "Lucky  indeedM"  said  Minnie.  "But  is  nov 
the  cricket  a  thief  ?  Does  he  not,  in  the  night 
time,  come  out  of  the  chinks  and  crannies,"^  where 
he  has  lain  hidden  all  day,  and  eat  up  the  cruml)s 
that'have  fallen  from  the  kitchen  table^  ?  And  if 
he  chance®  to  be  thirsty — as  he  always  is — and  no 
water  be  near,  does  he  not  get  into  the  milk-jug, 
or  gnaw  great  holes  in  the  wet  woolen  stockings 
hung  by  the  kitchen  fire  to  dry'  V 

6.  "And  what  if  he  does  all  this' !"  said  Willies 
"May  he  not  take  the  crumbs  which  have  been 
thrown  away'  %    Is  there  any  harm  in  this'  ?    And 


THIKD  EEADER.  97 

is  it  not  well  that  lie  should  teacli  you  and  Lucy  to 
be  more,  careful  than  to  leave  tlie  damp  stockings 
where  he  can  reach  them'?  May  not  the  cricket 
get  his  living  the  best  way  he  can'  V 

7.  "I  think  the  crickets  must  be  very  happy" 
said  Lucy.  "  I  should  like  to  be  a  cricket,  and  sit 
all  day  by  the  fire,  with  nothing  to  do  but  sing, 
and  never  have  to  go  to  school." 

8.  "  Yovl'?  You,  Lucy'  ^:  You  wish  to  be  a 
cricket  V  said  L.  "  You  who  so  dearly  love  the 
fields  and  the  flowers',  and  the  sunshine',  and  the 
bright  sky',  and  the  beautiful  butterflies' !  Would 
you  be  willing  to  be  deprived  of  all  these'  V 

9.  '^  Would  you  like  to  be  shut  up  all  day — all 
summer  too,  as  well  as  winter' — with  nothing  to 
look  at  but  the  red  fire,  the  black  chimney,  the  ket- 
tle,,the  andirons,  and  the  saucepan';  with  no  sweet 
song  of  birds  or  hum  of  bees  to  listen  to,  only  the 
wind  in  the  chimney,  or  the  clatter  of  the  tongs 
and  poker,  or  the  tick  of  the  clock  on  the  mantel- 
piece' V 

10.  ^^Poor  thing^ !'""  exclaimed  Lucy.  "I  never 
thought  of  summer.  I  was  only  thinking  what  a 
snug  and  warm  home  you  have  in  winter\  Poor 
cricket^ !'"     How  I  pity^  you !" 

11.  "  Nay,  now,  Lucy,"  said  I, "  you  need  not  pity 
him ;  for,  like  all  the  creatures  which  our  good 
heavenly  Father  has  made,  he  is  very  happy  in  his 
way.  Does  he  not  seem  to  say  so  in  that  little  song 
which  he  plays  on  his  fiddle'  V 

12.  And  so  we  all  agreed  that  the  cricket  is  as 
happy  in  his  way',  as  we  are  in  ours";  that,  al- 

E 


98  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

though  he  has  no  voice,  he  has  a  very  good  fiddle, 
and  plays  on  it  remarkably^  welP;  that  he  does 
not  need  our  pity',  and  that  he  is  not  a  very  bad 
thief  after  all\  But  who  would  like  to  exchange 
places  with  him^ !  "  Not  I."  "  Not  I."  ''  Not  I." 
And  so  said  we  all. 


"  Shkill,  sharp  in  sound. 
**  Notes,  musical  sounds. 
«  Heaeth,  pronounced  hdrth. 


^  Cean'-nies,  narrow  openings,  etc. 

*  Chance,  happen. 

'  Re-maek'-a-bly,  exceedingly. 


[Lesson  XLV.,  illustrated  by  a  view  of  several  house-crickets  around 
the  kitchen  fire-place — one  on  the  woolen  stockings,  and  one  climbing  up 
the  milk-jug — corrects  a  popular  error — the  belief  that  crickets  have  voices, 
and  can  sing,  etc.  Minnie's  censure  of  the  crickets  is  well  replied  to  by 
Willie :  and  Lucy's  very  inconsiderate  wish  she  herself  is  let  to  retract, 
after  a  little  reflection. — See  the  subject  of  "The  Music  of  Insects"  farther 
explained  in  Lesson  LX.] 


LESSOlSr  XLYI. 
Leon  and  C.laea.  , 

1.  Leon  and  Clara  were  two  orphan  children, 
who  had  lived  to  the  ages  of  twelve  and  ten  years 
in  the  great  city  of  Paris ;  but  when  their  parents 
died  they  were  sent  to  live  with  their  Aunt  Hu- 
bert, in  a  little  village  a  short  distance  from  the 
city. 

2.  Aunt  Hubert  soon  found  that  these  city  chil- 
dren knew  very  little  of  the  world  that  was  out- 
side of  Paris,  and  that  they  were,  indeed,  very  ig- 
norant of  many  of  the  most  common  things  of 
every-day  life. 

3.  So  the  very  first  holiday*  after  they  went  to 
live  with  her,  she  took  them  to  the  farm  from 
which  she  obtained  her  butter,  eggs,  and  milk,  that 
they  might  see  how  people  live  in  the  country ;  for 


THIRD  EEADER. 


99 


it  was  a  saying  of  Aunt  Hubert,  that  "  seeing  is 
believing." 

4.  On  their  return  home  that  very  evening,  the 
good  results^  of  this  their  first  visit  to  the  country, 
were  very  evident.""  It  seemed  that  they  would 
never  tire  of  talking  about  what  they  had  seen, 
and  what  they  had  done. 

5.  Leon  had  tried  his  hand  at  the  plow,  under 
the  direction  of  the  farmer : .  he  had  seen  the  corn 
growing  in  the  field,  and  had  plucked  some  of  the 
ears  for  roasting :  Clara  had  taken  her  first  lesson 
in  milking;  and  both  had  seen  the  process"^  of 
stacking  wheat,  and  threshing  oats. 

6.  Leon  had  fed  the  little  pigs  that  were  in  the 
pen :  Clara  had  fed  the  chickens  three  times ;  and 
both  of  the  children  had  been  delighted  in  hunting 
hen's  nests.  As  fond  of  hot  rolls  and  butter  as 
they  were,  they  had  never  before  known  how  bread 
is  made;  and  they  were  surprised  to  find  that 
butter  is  obtained  by  stirring  or  churning  cream. 

7.  Their  first  visit  to  the  country  was  a  day  of 
wonders  to  these  children ;  and  Aunt  Hubert  suc- 
ceeded in  making  them  feel  the  importance  of  the 
knowledge  which  they  had  gained,  by  telling  them 
the  folloiving  story  about  the  little  Marquis  Nihil, 
and  his  sister  Letta. 


»  Hol'-i-day,  day  of  amusement ;  festival 

day. 
*>  Rk-$ult8',  effects. 


<=  Ev'-i-DENT,  plain ;  clear  to  be  seen. 
'^  Peo'-cess,  mode;  manner. 


[Lesson  XL VI.  is  designed  to  show  how  ignorant  those  people,  who 
have  always  lived  in  a  city,  may  be  of  the  most  common  matters  of  coun- 
try life,  with  many  of  which  they  ought  to  be  acquainted.  They  can  not 
be  well-informed  of  these  things  without  they  learn  them  by  actual  obser- 
vation.] 


100  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

LESSON  XLYIL 

The  Little  Maequis  and  his  Sistee. 

L  Tlielr  First  Visit  to  the  Coimtry. 

1.  The  little  Mar- 
quis  Nihil,  and  his 
sister  Letta,  were  ed- 
ucated in  the  city 
of  Paris,  in  princely 
style;  for  the  lad  had 
a  fencing-master,  who 
came  every  day  to 
teach  him  the  sword 
exercise ;  and  his  sis- 
ter was  taught  to  embroider  f  both  of  them  took 
lessons  in  drawing,  painting,  and  dancing;  and 
when  they  should  be  perfect  in  these,  it  was 
thought  their  education  would  be  complete.^ 

2.  When  the  Marquis  was  fifteen  years  old,  and 
his  sister  twelve,  they  went  to  reside*"  a  short  dis- 
tance from  Paris,  at  the  castle  of  their  uncle,  for 
they  were  orphans/^ 

3.  As  this  was  the  first  time  they  had  ever  been 
in  the  country,  their  eyes  opened  with  wonder  at 
nearly  every  thing  they  saw.  They  were  very 
much  surprised  to  see  the  roads  unpaved;^  fields 
in  which  other  things  besides  tulips  were  growing; 
sheep  that  were  not  led  by  rose-colored  ribbons ; 
and  birds  that  were  not  confined  in  cages ! 

4.  But  how  much  were  they  astonished,  when,  on 
arriving  at  their  uncle's,  they  learned  that  before 
French  rolls  can  be  made,  wheat  must  grow,  and  be^ 


THIRD  READEK 


m: 


ground ;  that  before  we  can  have  milk,  cows  must 
have  grass;  and  that  wine  does  not  run  from  the 
vine  on  the  turning  of  a  key,  as  it  does  from  the 
cask! 

5.  Both  of  these  young  people — the  Marquis, 
who  thought  himself  almost  a  man,  and  his  sister, 
who  thought  herself  quite  a  lady — wandered,  in 
great  amazement,  over  large  fields  that  were  not 
enclosed^  by  iron  fences,  and  along  a  lovely  river, 
where  there  were  neither  shops,  nor  wharves  for 
shipping. 


1 


a  Em-beoid'-er,   adorn   with    ornamental 

needle-work. 
^  tJoM-PLETE',  finished. 
'  Re-side',  dwell ;  sojourn. 


^  Or'-phans,  without  fatlier  or  mother, 
e  Un-paved',  not  covered  with  stones, 
f  En -closed',  surrounded. 


IJ.  Their  Adventures  on  the  River. 

1.  One  morning, 
as  they  were  chat- 
ting, and  sauntering 
along,  they  came  to 
a  small  creek,  in 
which  lay  a  little 
green  boat,  the  bow"" 
of  which  was  in  the 
form  of  a  swan's 
head  and  neck.  As 
the  little  Marquis  had  once  crossed  the  river  at 
Paris  in  a  similar  boat,  he  at  once  jumped  in ;  and 
his  sister,  out  of  respect  for  her  brother,  followed. 

2.  But  the  skiff  had  not  been  securely  fastened: 
the  shock  of  their  jumping  in  had  loosed  the  rope, 
and  behold !  they  were  soon  borne,^  by  the  current, 
down  the  river !     What  then  was  to  be  done  I 


102  -WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

3.  Great  was  the  fright  of  the  Marquis  Nihil,  and 
his  sister  Letta.  The  latter  began  to  cry,  as  she 
always  did  when  any  thing  happened  that  did  not 
please  her:  but  the  Marquis,  trying  to  be  brave, 
laid  his  hand  on  his  sword,  as  he  had  been  told 
every  gentleman  should  do,  when  at  all  vexed,*"  or 
in  any  danger. 

4.  But  the  Marquis  soon  found  that  drawing  his 
sword  did  not  prevent  the  boat  from  being  carried 
onward  by  the  stream :  so,  letting  go  his  sword,  he 
seized  an  oar.  But  although  he  knew  all  the  move- 
ments of  the  sword  exercise,  and  could  dance  al- 
most to  perfection,  he  did  not  know  which  end  of 
the  oar  to  handle. 

5.  All  his  efforts  at  guiding  the  boat  were  use- 
less, and  he  only  succeeded  in  turning  it  quite  round 
two  or  three  times,  and  forcing  it  into  the  middle 
of  the  stream,  which  carried  them  on  so  rapidly, 
that,  as  the  river  continued  to  widen,  they  soon  lost 
all  hope  of  assistance'^  from  either  bank. 

6.  The  Marquis  now  threw  down  the  oar  in  de- 
spair, and  seated  himself  in  the  bow  of  the  boat ; 
while  his  little  sister,  seated  in  the  stern,  continued 
to  cry,  for  want  of  something  better  to  do.  At  last 
they  floated  down  to  an  island  in  the  middle  of  the 
stream,  when  the  boat,  becoming  entangled  among 
the  rushes,  ran  aground,  and  both  leaped  out,  high- 
ly delighted  at  their  escape  from  the  river. 

a  B5w,  the  forward  end.  I  «  Vexed,  made  angry;  provoked. 

"  BoEME,  carried.  |  ^  Ab-sist'-ance,  aid ;  help. 


THIRD  READER. 


103 


III,  TJieir  Adventures  on  the  Island. 

1.  After  the  two  cast- 
aways had  fastened  the 
rope  to  a  tree,  they  start- 
ed off  to  see  what  kind 
of  a  country  they  were 
in,  hoping  to  find  a  post- 
office  where  they  could 
write,  and  from  which 
they  could  send  a  letter 
p  to  their  uncle,  request- 
ing""  him  to  come  to 
their  aid.  But  they  went  entirely  around  the  isl- 
and, without  meeting  with  any  thing  but  flocks  of 
sheep,  herds  of  cattle,  fowls  contentedly  seeking 
their  food,  and  a  deserted^  house. 

2.  They  were  now  convinced  that  they  had  been 
cast  upon  a  desert ""  island,  similar  to  those  visited 
by  Captain  Cook,  or  that  on  which  Robinson  Cru- 
soe had  been  cast  away ;  and  this  greatly  alarmed 
the  little  lady :  but  her  brother  showed  more  cour- 
age, and  told  his  sister  not  to  cry,  for  he  hoped,  as 
he  was  a  marquis,  that  all  would  yet  be  well  with 
them. 

3.  "  You  must  not  despair,  my  sister,"  he  said 
gravely,  ^'  for  I  think,  if  we  have  patience  and 
industry,  we  may  find  something  to  live  upon. 
These  cows  ought  to  produce'^  milk  in  abundance ; 
and  probably  the  fowls  of  this  island  lay  eggs, 
somewhat  in  the  manner  of  those  of  more  civil- 
ized countries. 


104  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

4.  "  I  also  observed,  in  that  forsaken  hut,  a  sack 
of  that  white  flour,  with  which  our  uncle's  house- 
keeper pretends  bread  can  be  made.  So  come; 
let  us  see  what  we  can  do  with  these  miserable 
materials ;  and  as  our  servants  are  left  at  the  castle, 
we  must  not  hesitate  about  helping  ourselves." 

5.  They  wisely  agreed  that  this  was  the  best 
thing  to  be  done :  but  when  they  attempted^  to  car- 
ry out  their  plan,  they  met  with  a  few  difficulties. 
They  found  that  they  could  not  get  the  milk  with- 
out first  milking  the  cows ;  and  neither  knew  how 
to  set  about  it.  Besides,  the  great  horned  beasts 
completely  frightened  them ! 

6.  However,  the 
young  Marquis  found 
his  courage  increase 
Avith  the  occasion^  for 
it ;  and,  resolutely^ 
drawing  his  sword, 
he  advanced  toward 
the  nearest  cow, 
threatening  her  with 
instant  death  unless 
she  then  and  there 
delivered^  up  her  milk !  But  at  this  the  cow  turned 
upon  him  such  a  gentle  look  of  wonder,  that  he  put 
up  his  sword  in  despair.  He  was  not  any  more 
fortunate'  with  the  fowls,  who  fled  on  his  approach, 
with  a  loud  cackling  noise. 

7.  In  the  mean  time  Letta,  who  had  gone  to  the 
house,  wandered  over  it  in  a  very  unhappy  state 
of  mind.     She  had,  indeed,  found  the  bag  of  flour ; 


THIRD  READER.  105 

but  she  had  not  the  least  idea  how  flour  was  to  be 
made  into  bread.  She  saw  a  large  side  of  bacon^ 
hanging  in  the  chimney,  and  wondered  what  it  could 
be.  The  fire,  too,  had  gone  out ;  and  she  knew  no 
way  of  relighting  it,  as  she  had  always  called  upon 
her  maid  Catherine  to  do  such  things. 

8.  And  thus  hours  ran  by,  and  the  unhappy  ones 
began  to  think  they  should  perish  with  hunger. 
The  face  of  the  little  Marquis  became  very  sad,  and 
his  sister  began  again  to  cry.  At  last,  as  evening 
drew  near,  they  both  left  the  house,  and  began  anew 
their  search  for  something  to  eat. 

9.  They  saw  plenty  of  hazel  and  chestnut  trees 
bearing  their  fruit,  but  the  chestnuts  were  hidden 
in  their  prickly  burs,  and  the  nuts  in  their  green 
husks,' so  that  they  did  not  know  the  fruit  which 
they  had  seen  only  on  the  table  in  the  city.  All 
they  could  find  to  eat  were  a  few  miserable  wild 
cherries. 

=^-^^M^5^r:  10.  They  had  just 

completed  this  poor 
repast,^  when,  hearing 
a  noise,  they  turned 
round,  and  were  joy- 
fully surprised  to  be- 
hold a  party  of  men 
and  women  who  had 
just  landed  from  a 
boat  near  by.  They 
proved  to  be  the  farmers  of  the  island,  who  had 
been  spending  the  day  in  the  fields  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  making  hay. 

E  2 


106 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


11.  As  Nihil  related  his  adventures,  not  all  the 
respect  they  felt  for  a  marquis  could  restrain  their 
hearty  laughter.  They  could  not  well  understand 
why  any  one  should  be  so  ignorant  of  the  most 
common  things ;  and  they  perhaps  felt  a  little  pride 
in  their  own  superior  knowledge. 

12.  However,  these  good  people  soon  made  up 
for  their  lack  of  reverence,  by  conducting  the 
brother  and  sister  to  the  house,  where  the  good 
wife  prepared  for  them  an  excellent  meal,  made  up 
solely  from  the  flour,  and  the  bacon,  and  the  fruits 
of  the  island ;  thus  proving,  that,  U7iless  ive  hnow 
how  to  make  use  of  the  means  within  ov/r  reaxih^  ive 
might  as  ivell  he  without  them. 

13.  This  little  story,  told  by  Aunt  Hubert,  led 
Leon  and  Clara  to  desire  to  see  and  understand 
every  thing  that  passed  around  them;  and  they 
determined,  if  they  should  ever  find  themselves  in 
the  situation  of  the  little  French  Marquis  and  his 
sister,  they  would  at  least  know  better  how  to  help 
themselves. 

14.  They  were  not  satisfied  until  they  had  seen 
all  the  different  kinds  of  farm  labor;  and  what  they 
did  not  understand,  they  were  glad  to  have  ex- 
plained to  them.  They  were,  indeed,  all  the  time 
asking  questions :  but  this.  Aunt  Hubert  said,  is 
the  way  children  learn.  She  told  them  they  might 
ask  all  the  questions  they  chose,  and  she  would 
answer  as  many  of  them  as  she  could. 


*  Re-qtjest'-ino,  asking. 

•*  De-sert'-kd,  forsaken;  abandoned. 
0  Des'-ert,  not  inhabited. 
**  Pbo-duce',  give ;  yield, 

*  At-tempt'-ed,  tried ;  endeavored. 

*■  Oo-OA.'-8iON,  opportunity;  necessity. 


e  Res'-o-httE'LT,  boldly  ;  courageously. 

h  De-liv'-eeed,  gave ;  yielded. 

'  Fort'-c-nate,  successful. 

J  Ba'-con,  hog's  flesh  salted  and  smoked. 

^  Re-past',  meal ;  act  of  eating. 


THIRD  READER. 


107 


[Lesson  XLVII.  well  illustrates  the  principles  of  the  preceding  lesson. 
Although  the  little  French  Marquis  and  his  sister  had  been  instructed  in 
all  the  accomplishments  that  were  by  some  thought  necessary  to  a  com- 
plete education,  yet  their  ignorance  of  common  things  must  have  made  them 
appear  very  ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  intelligent  country  people.  Their  ed- 
ucation had  not  been  practical;  and  hence  they  were  totally  unfitted  to  take 
care  of  themselves.  Though  in  the  midst  of  abundance,  they  came  near 
perishing  of  hunger  when  left  to  their  own  resources.  Let  the  resolution 
of  Leon  and  Clara — "to  see  and  understand  every  thing  that  passes  around 
them" — govern  all  who  wish  to  fit  themselves  for  the  business  of  life.] 


LESSON"  XLVIII. 
Time. 


^ 


The  moments  fly — a  minute's  gone^ ; 
The  minutes  pass — an  hour  is  run^ ; 
Tlie  day  is  fled — the  night  is  here^ : 
Thus  flies  a  week',  a  month',  a  year. 


2.  A  year^ !  alas,  how  soon  'tis  past' ! 
Who  knows  but  this  may  be  our  last'  1 
A  few  short  years,  how  quickly  fled\ 
And  we  are  numbered  with  the  dead. 


108 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


The  watch  is  ticking,  ticking, 
Ticking  my  minutes  away^ ; 

And  minutes  make  up  the  hours', 
And  hours  make  up  the  day. 


^^^1  i' 

1. 

i^^^^^^^fr* 

^M 

m||- 

^f^mt 

^^^■i 

^^vp^ 

r:'  "'liP^ 

4. 


The  clock  is  striking,  striking 
The  hours  so  loud  and  clear^ : 

The  hours  make  up  the  day', 
And  the  days  make  up  the  year. 


6.  The  bell  is  tolling,  tolhng. 

For  one  whose  day  is  done^ : 
To  where  time  is  known  no  longer. 
That  weary  soul  has  gone. 


THIRD  READER. 


109 


6.  And  it  soon  will  toll  for  me^ ; 
And  then  my  home  will  be 

Where  the  icatch  ticks  no  more^, 

And  the  clock  strikes  no  more, 
And  there  is  no  more  time  for  me. 

[Lesson  XL VIII.  very  forcibly  pictures  the  rapid  flight  of  time — from 
youth  to  old  age — from  moments,  through  minutes,  hours,  days,  weeks, 
months,  and  years;  until  the  tolling  bell  warns  that  "there  is  no  more 
time"  for  the  weary  soul  that  is  gone. 

Illustrations.  The  first  illustration  is  a  picture  of  the  period  of  Youth. 
A  lad  on  his  way  to  school — the  school-house  being  seen  in  the  distance — 
is  urged  by  his  companion  to  turn  aside,  and  spend  the  day  in  pleasure. 
As  each  one  now  decides,  so,  it  is  probable,  will  his  future  life  be  marked, 
as  one  of  honor,  or  of  dishonor. 

The  second  picture  is  that  of  Youth  taking  lessons  from  the  experience 
and  wisdom  of  Age. 

The  remaining  illustrations  require  no  explanation.] 


The  School -room. 

1.  In  the  school-room  w^hile  we  stay, 

There  is  work  enough  to  do ; 
Study,  study  through  the  day. 
Keep  our  lessons  all  in  view. 

2.  There's  no  time  to  waste  or  lose, 
Every  moment  we  should  use, 
For  the  hours  are  gliding  fast ; — 
Soon  our  school-days  will  be  past. 


110  WILLSON'S  INTEEMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  XLIX. 
The   Farmer's   Life. 


1.  Here  is  a  country  scene — a  farmer's  home. 
Here  is  the  plain,  low  farm-house,  only  a  story*  and 
a  half  high ;  so  unlike  the  high  buildings  we  see 
in  the  city.  But  why  do  people  in  the  city  build 
houses  so  much  higher  than  in  the  country^  ?  Can 
any  one  telF  ?  Many  of  the  city  houses  are  four 
and  five  stories  in  height. 

2.  It  is  early  in  spring.  The  trees  and  shrubs 
around  the  farmer's  dwelling  are  now  covered  with 
leaves.  Some  flowers  are  growing  in  earthen  pots, 
which  stand  on  a  shelf  between  the  window  and 
the  porch,^  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  house.  Two 
persons,  one  of  whom  is  a  little  girl,  are  standing 
on  the  steps  at  the  end  of  the  piazza.''     A  boy  is 


THIRD   READER.  HI 

driving  the  cows  to  the  pasture,  and  the  dog  is 
going  with  him.  It  is  a  quiet  country  scene.  It 
is  a  morning  in  spring. 

3.  I  like  the  country.  Who  does  not  like  its 
green  fields\  its  waving  grain\  its  golden  harvests\ 
its  old  forests^  and  pleasant  groves\  its  bubbling 
springs^  and  winding  streams^  its  herds  of  cattle\ 
its  flocks  of  sheep^ — and  its  good  honest  people 
too'? 

4.  Has  any  one  more  cause  to  be  happy  than 
the  farmer^  ?  Who  has  purer  air  to  breathe\  purer 
water  to  drink\  and  more  wholesome  food  to  eat* 
than  the  farmer'?  Who  has  more  real  comforts, 
and  less  care  than  he'?  Ought  not  the  farmer  to 
be  very  thankfuF  ? 

5.  The  farmer  rises  early,  and  goes  forth  to  his 
work  in  the  field  while  the  dew  is  still  on  the  grass, 
and  the  morning  air  is  fresh  and  balmy.^  The 
birds  welcome  him  with  their  songs.  His  eye 
beams  with  delight  at  all  he  sees ;  his  step  is  firm 
and  elastic ;  and  the  glow  of  health  is  on  his  cheek. 

6.  Happy  the  man  whose  wish  and  care 

A  few  paternal  acres®  bound  ; 
Content  to  breathe  his  native  air^ 
In  his  own  ground. 

7.  Whose  herds  with  milk\  whose  fields'  with  bread\ 

Whose  flocks'  supply  him  with  attire^  ;s 
Whose  trees'  in  summer  yield  him  shade\ 
In  winter',  fire\ 


"  Sto'-ey,  the  height  of  one  room. 
•>  PoKCH,  entrance  to  a  house  ;  portico. 
*=  Pi-Az'-ZA,  a  covered  walk  or  portico. 
•*  Balm'-y,  fragrant;  sweet. 


e  "  Pa-tep.'-nal  Acees,"  land  left  by  one's 
father.  [place, 

f  "  Na'-tive  Air,"  the  air  of  his  hirth- 
8  At-tiee',  clothing. 


[Lesson  XLIX.  is  the  beginning  of  a  series  of  lessons  on  "The  Farm-> 
er's  Life,"  illustrated  by  a  picture  of  a  farmer's  home.    The  farmer  is  rep- 


112 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


resented  as  leading  a  quiet,  healthy,  and  happy  life,  for  which  he  has  cause 
to  be  very  thankful.  For  the  benefit  of  the  pupils,  let  the  teacher  give  a 
more  free  reading  of  the  seventh  verse.  Thus  :  "Whose  herds  supply  him 
with  milk,  whose  fields  supply  him  with  bread,  whose  flocks  supply  him 
■•vith  clothing,"  etc.] 


LESSON  L. 
The  Farmer  in  Spring. 


Making  Maple  Sugar. 

1.  Maple  sugar  is  made  from  tlie  sap  of  the  tree 
known  as  the  sugar-maple ;  but  muscovado  sugar 
is  made  from  the  juice  of  the  sugar-cane.  In  some 
parts  of  the  country,  where  the  sugar-maple-tree 
grows,  the  farmer's  first  work  in  the  spring  is  the 
making  of  maple  sugar.  It  is  only  in  the  spring, 
when  the  frost  begins  to  leave  the  ground,  that  the 
sap  can  be  obtained,  as  it  then  rises  from  the  roots 
of  the  trees,  and  ascends^  to  the  buds  and  leaves. 


THIRD  READER.  113 

2.  The  following  is  the  manner^  in  which  the  sap 
is  obtained.  A  hole,  about  an  inch  deep,  is  bored 
into  the  tree,  with  an  auger;  and  a  tube,  sometimes 
made  of  the  wood  of  the  elder,  or  of  the  sumach,  or 
perhaps  of  pine,  is  then  driven  in.  Through  this 
tube  the  sap  flows\  sometimes  in  slow  drops',  and 
sometimes  in  almost  a  running  stream\ 

3.  The  sap  is  caught  in  troughs,""  or  in  wooden 
buckets,  as  we  see  in  the  picture.  A  pailful  a  day 
is  sometimes  obtained  from  a  single  tree.  The  sap 
is  carried  to  the  sugar-house,  where  some  of  it  is 
boiled  down  into  a  thick  sirup,  or  molasses ;  and 
some  of  it  is  boiled  until  it  becomes  sugar. 

4.  At  the  head  of  this  lesson  we  see  a  picture  of 
the  farmer's  sugar-house,  which  is  a  rude  cabin  in 
the  woods/where  the  maple-trees  are  abundant.'^ 
The  farmer  and  his  sons  are  going  around  to  the 
trees  and  gathering  the  sap,  which  they  take  to  the 
cabin,  where  it  is  poured  into  a  large  vat,  or  into  a 
cistern,  ready  to  be  drawn  off  into  the  boiler  as  it 
may  be  needed. 

*  As-CENDs',  goes  up.  J  <=  Though  (frmrf\  a  long  hollow  vessel. 

^  Man'-nek,  way ;  mode;  method.  |  •*  A-bun'-dant,  plentiful. 

[Lesson  L.  represents  the  farmer  in  spring.     The  making  of  maple 
sugar  is  described,  and  illustrated.] 


The  Peakl  of  Truth. 

Priceless  gem^ !  the  pearl  of  Tkuth^  ! 
Brightest  ornament  of  youth^ ! 
Seek  to  wear  it  in  thy  crown ; 
Then,  if  all  the  world  should  frown, 
Thou  hast  won  a  glorious  prize. 
That  will  guide  thee  to  the  skies. 


114 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES 


LESSON  LI. 
Spring  is  Coming. 


•■^-"' 


.  "Lo !  the  winter  is  past\  the  rain  is  over  and  gone' ; 
The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth' ; 
The  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come\ 
And  the  voice  of  the  turtle*  is  heard  in  the  land." 

Song  of  Solomon, 

2.  Spring  is  coming !  spring  is  coming ! 
Birds  are  chirping,  insects  humming ; 
Flowers  are  peeping  from  their  sleeping ; 
Streams,  escaped  from  winter's  keeping, 
In  delighted  freedom  rushing. 

Dance  along  in  music  gushing. 

3.  The  pleasant  spring  is  here  again ; 

Its  voice  is  in  the  trees ; 
It  smiles  from  every  sunny  glen, 
It  whispers  in  the  breeze. 

*  The  twtle-dove  is  here  referred  to.     See  Fourth  Reader,  page  144. 


THIKD  READER. 


115 


4.  All  is  beauty,  all  is  mirth, 

All  is  glory  on  the  earth. 
*    Shout  we,  then,  with  nature's  voice. 

Welcome,  spring !     Rejoice,  rejoice ! 

[Lesson  LI.  In  an  extract  from  the  Song  of  Solomon,  the  coming  of 
spring  is  described.  Then  follows  an  exultation,  or  transport  of  joy,  on  the 
coming  of  spring,  which  is  represented  as  heralded  by  the  birds,  insects, 
flowers,  streams,  etc.     All  nature  rejoices.] 


LESSON  LIT. 
The  Faemer  in  Speing — Continued. 


Plowing,  Planting,  and  Sowing. 

"  He  that  tilleth  his  land  shall  be  satisfied^ with  bread." — 
JProv.,  xii.,  11. 

1.  Here  is  another  picture  of  tlie  farmer  at  his 
work,  in  the  spring  of  the  year.  After  the  ground 
has  become  dry,  the  farmer  plows  his  fields  for  the 
spring  crops,  and  thus  prepares  the  soil  for  the 


116 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


seed.     He  sows  spring  wheat,  and  rye,  and  oats, 

and  barley,  and  other  kinds  of  grain. 

2.  Sometimes  he  uses  a  machine  called  a  drill, 

which  is  drawn  by 
horses,  and  which  not 
only  drops  the  seeds 
in  rows,  but  covers 
them  also.  Some- 
times he  scatters  the 
seeds  broadcast,'''  and 
then  covers  them  by 
the  use  of  a  drag,  or 
^'       harrow,   which   is 


The  Drill. 


drawn  over  the  land. 

3.  With  the  hoe  he  plants  corn^,  and  potatoes^, 
and  cucumbers^,  and  melons',  and  the  seeds  of 
many  other  vegetables\  some  of  which  grow  in 
the  fields',  and  some  in  the  garden\  Much  of  his 
time  in  the  spring  is  occupied  in  hoeing  these  veg- 
etables. 

4.  He  also  plows  some  of  his  fields,  in  which 
he  intends  to  sow  wheat  and  rye  in  the  fall  of  the 
year.  These  fields  are  called  summer-falloiDS^  be- 
cause they  are  left  fallow,  or  unsown,  during  the 
summer.  But  the  farmer  must  leave  some  past- 
ure^ for  his  cattle,  and  his  sheep,  and  his  horses, 
and  also  mea*dow-land  for  hay. 

5.  In  the  Southern  States,  the  planter,  or  farmer, 
raises  rice  on  the  marshy""  lands  of  the  sea-coast. 
Large  quantities  of  maize,  or  Indian  corn,  are  also 
raised  at  the  South;  but  cotton,  and  sugar  made 
from  the  sugar-cane,  are  the  most  important  prod- 


THIRD  READER. 


117 


ucts^  of  the  Southern  planter.     A  large  farm  at 
the  South  is  called  ^plantation. 


»  Bko ad-oast',   thrown  at  large,  "by  the 

hand.  [for  grazing. 

^  Past'-Cbe,  grass  for  cattle;  land  used 


Mae8h'-y,  wet ;  covered  with  water. 
Prod'-xtcts,    productions ;    things   pro- 
duced by  the  land. 


[Lesson  LII.  is  a  continuation  of  the  description  of  the  farmer's  life  in 
spring.  It  is  now  the  season  of  plowing,  planting,  and  sowing,  for  the 
spring  crops.     The  different  seeds  planted  and  sown  are  mentioned.] 


LESSON  LIII. 
Labor. 

[The  falling  inflections  in  this  lesson  are  good  illustrations  of  Rflk  IV.] 

1.  Labor,  labor — honest  labor — 

Labor  keeps  me  well  and  strong^ ; 
Labor  gives  me  food  and  raiment\* 
Labor,  too,  inspires^  my  song\ 

2.  Labor  keeps  me  ever  merry ^ ; 

Cheerful  labor  is  but  play^ : 
Labor  wrestles^  with  my  sorrow^ ; 
Labor  driveth  tears  away\ 

3.  Labor  makes  me  greet*^  the  morning 

In  the  glorious  hour  of  dawn\ 
And  I  see  the  hills  and  valleys' 
Put  their  golden  garments  on\ 

4.  Labor  curtains^  night  with  gladness\ 

Giveth  rest'  and  happy  dreams^ ; 
And  the  sleep  that  follows  labor' 
With  the  sweetest  pleasure  teems\' 

5.  Labor  brings  me  all  I  need^ ; 

While  I  work'  I  need  not  borrow^ ; 
Hands  are  toiling  for  to-day\ 
Mind  is  working  for  to-morrow\ 

6.  Labor's  tools  make  sweetest  music, 

As  their  busy  echoes  ring^ ; 
Loom,  and  wheel,  and  anvil,  ever' 
Have  a  merry  song  to  sing\ 


118  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

7.  Labor,  labor^ !  ne'er  be  idle^ ; 
Labor,  labor  while  you  can^ ; 
'Tis  the  Iron  Age  of  Labor^ ; 
Labor  only  makes  the  man ! 


Rai'-ment,  clothing. 

In-spibes',  fills  with  poetic  thoughts. 

Wkes'-tles  (res'-lz)^  strives ;  contends. 


<!  Greet,  salute ;  hail  with  joy. 

«  Cur'-tains,  encloses,  as  with  curtains. 

f  Teems,  abounds. 


[Lesson  LIII.  is  an  earnest  commendation  of  Labor,  on  account  of  the 
rewards  which  it  brings.  These  are  health  and  strength,  food  and  rai- 
ment, cheerful  occupation,  pleasant  sleep,  happy  dreams,  etc.] 


LESSON  LIY. 
The  Chestnut -bur. 

1.  One  fine  pleasant  morning,  in  the  fall  of  the 
year,  as  the  master  was  walking  along  toward 
school,  he  saw  three  or  four  boys  under  a  large 
chestnut-tree,  gathering""  chestnuts. 

2.  One  of  the  boys  was  sitting  upon  the  ground, 
trying  to  open  some  chestnut-burs,  which  he  had 
knocked  from  the  tree.  The  burs  were  green,  and 
he  was  trying  to  open  them  by  pounding  them 
with  a  stone. 

3.  He  was  a  very  impatient^  boy,  and  was  scold- 
ing, in  a  loud,  angry  tone,  against  the  burs.  He 
did  not  see,  he  said,  what  in  the  world  chest- 
nuts were  made  to  grow  so  for.  They  ought  to 
grow  right  out  in  the  open  air,  like  apples,  and  not 
have  such  vile""  porcupine  skins  on  them — -just  to 
plague  the  boys. 

4.  So  saying,  he  stinick  with  all  his  might  a  fine 
large  bur,  crushed  it  in  pieces,  and  then  jumped  up, 
using  at  the  same  time  profane^  and  wicked  words. 
As  soon  as  he  turned  round  he  saw  the  master 


THIRD  READER.  119 

standing   very   near   him.     He   felt  very   mucli 
ashamed,  and  afraid,  and  hung  down  his  head. 

5.  "  Roger,"  said  the  master  (for  this  boy's  name 
was  Roger), "  can  you  get  me  a  chestnut-bur  ?" 

Roger  looked  up  for  a  moment,  to  see  if  the  mas- 
ter was  in  earnest,  and  then  began  to  look  around 
for  a  bur. 

6.  A  boy  who  was  standing  near  the  tree,  with 
a  red  cap  in  his  hand  full  of  burs,  held  out  one  of 
them.  Roger  took  the  bur  and  handed  it  to  the 
master,  who  quietly  put  it  into  his  pocket,  and 
walked  away. 

7.  As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  the  boy  with  the  red 
cap  said  to  Roger,  "  I  expected  the  master  would 
give  you  a  good  scolding  for  talking  so." 

"The  master  never  scolds,"  said  another  boy, 
who  was  sitting  on  a  log  near  by,  with  a  green 
satche?  in  his  hand ;  "  but  you  see  if  he  does  not 
remember  it."  Roger  looked  as  if  he  did  not  know 
what  to  think  about  it. 

"  I  wish,"  said  he,  "  I  knew  what  he  is  going  to 
do  with  that  bur." 

8.  That  afternoon,  when  the  lessons  had  all  been 
recited,  and  it  was  about  time  to  dismiss  the  school, 
the  boys  put  away  their  books,  and  the  master  read 
a  few  verses  in  the  Bible,  and  then  offered  a  prayer, 
in  which  he  asked  God  to  forgive  all  the  sins  which 
any  of  them  had  committed  that  day,  and  to  take 
care  of  them  during  the  night. 

9.  After  this  he  asked  the  boys  all  to  sit  down. 
He  then  took  his  handkerchief  out  of  his  pocket, 
and  laid  it  on  the  desk ;  and  afterward  he  put  his 


120  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

hand  into  Ms  pocket  again,  and  took  out  the  chest- 
nut-bur. 

:    10.  "  Boys,"  said  he,  "  do  you  know  what  this 
is?" 

One  of  the  boys  in  the  back  seat,  said,  in  a  half 
whisper,  "  It  is  nothing  but  a  chestnut-bur." 

'^  Lucy,"  said  the  master,  to  a  bright-eyed  little 
girl,  near  him,  "  what  is  this^  ?" 

"  It  is  a  chestnut-bur,  sir,"  said  she. 

"  Do  you  know  what  it  is  for'  ?" 

"  I  suppose  there  are  chestnuts  in  it." 

"  But  what  is  this  rough  prickly  covering  for^  ?" 

Lucy  did  not  know. 

11.  '^Does  any  body  here  know'?"  said  the  mas- 
ter. 

One  of  the  boys  said  he  supposed  it  was  to  hold 
the  chestnuts  together,  and  keep  them  up  on  the 
tree. 

"But  I  heard  a  boy  say,"  replied  the  master, 
"  that  they  ought  not  to  be  made  to  grow  so.  The 
nut  itself,  he  thought,  ought  to  hang  alone  on  the 
branches,  without  any  prickly  covering — just  as 
apples  do." 

"  But  the  nuts  themselves  have  no  stems  to  be 
fastened  by,"  answered  the  same  boy. 

12.  "  That  is  true ;  but  I  suppose  this  boy  thought 
that  God  could  have  made  them  grow  with  stems, 
and  that  this  would  have  been  better  than  to  have 
them  in  burs." 

After  a  little  pause  the  master  said  he  would 
explain  to  them  what  the  chestnut-bur  was  for, 
and  wished  them  all  to  listen  attentively. 


THIRD  READER.  121 

^^  How  mucli  of  the  chestnut  is  good  to  eat,  Wil- 
liam^ ?"  asked  he,  looking  at  a  boy  before  him. 
"  Only  the  meat." 

13.  "  How  long  does  it  take  the  meat  to  grow^?" 
"  All  summer,  I  suppose,  it  is  growing." 

"  Yes ;  it  begins  early  in  the  summer,  and  grad- 
ually swells  and  grows  until  it  has  become  of  full 
size,  and  is  ripe  in  the  fall.  Now  suppose  there 
were  a  tree  out  here  near  the  school-house,  and  the 
chestnut  meats  should  grow  upon  it  without  any 
shell  or  covering ;  suppose  too  that  they  should 
taste  like  good  ripe  chestnuts  at  first,  when  they 
were  very  small.  Do  you  think  they  would  be 
safe^r 

14.  William  said,  "  No^ !  the  boys  would  pick 
and  eat  them  before  they  had  time  to  grow." 

"  Well,  what  harm  would  there  be  in  that^  ? 
Would  it  not  be  as  well  to  have  the  chestnuts  ear- 
ly in  the  summer,  as  to  have  them  in  the  falF  ?" 

William  hesitated.  Another  boy,  who  sat  next 
to  him,  said : 

"  There  would  not  be  so  much  meat  in  the  chest- 
nuts, if  they  were  eaten  before  they  had  time  to 
grow." 

15.  "Eight,"  said  the  master;  "but  would  not 
the  boys  know  this,  and  so  all  agree  to  let  the  lit- 
tle chestnuts  stay,  and  not  eat  them  while  they 
were  smalV?' 

William  said  he  thought  they  would  not.  If 
the  chestnuts  were  good,  he  was  afraid  the  boys 
would  pick  them  off  aiid  eat  them  at  any  time. 

All  the  rest  of  the  boys  in  school  thought  so  too 

F 


122  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

16.  "Here  then,"  said  tlie  master,  "is  one  reason 
for  having  prickles  around  the  chestnuts  when  they 
are  small.  But  then  it  is  not  necessary  to  have  all 
chestnuts  guarded  from  boys  in  this  way ;  a  great 
many  of  the  trees  are  in  the  woods,  and  the  boys 
do  not  see  them.  "What  good  do  the  burs  do  in 
these  trees^  V 

17.  The  boys  hesitated.^  Presently  the  boy  who 
had  the  green  satchel  under  the  tree  with  Roger, 
who  was  sitting  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  said : 

"  I  should  think  they  would  keep  the  squirrels 
from  eating  them. 

"And  besides,"  continued  he,  after  thinking  a 
moment, "  I  should  suppose,  if  the  meat  of  the  chest- 
nut had  no  covering,  the  rain  might  M^et  it  and  make 
it  rot,  or  the  sun  might  dry  and  wither  it." 

18.  "Yes,"  said  the  master, "  these  are  very  good 
reasons  why  the  nut  should  be  carefully  guarded  :^ 
First,  the  meats  are  packed  away  in  a  hard  brown 
shell,  which  the  water  can  not  get  through.  This 
keeps  them  dry,  and  away  from  dust,  and  other 
things  which  might  injure  them.  Then  several 
nuts,  thus  protected,  grow  closely  together,  inside 
this  green  prickly  covering,  which  spreads  over 
them,  and  guards  them  from  the  animals  which 
would  eat  them,  and  from  the  boys.  When  the 
chestnut  gets  its  full  growth,  and  is  ripe,  this  cover- 
ing, you  know,  splits  open,  and  the  nuts  drop  out." 

19.  The  boys  were  then  all  satisfied  that  it  was 
better  that  chestnuts  should  grow  in  burs. 

"  But  why,"  asked  one  of  the  boys,  "  do  not  ap- 
ples grow  80^  ?" 


THIRD  READER.  123 

"Can  any  body  answer  that  question^?"  asked 
the  master. 

The  boy  with  the  green  satchel  said,  that  apples 
had  a  smooth,  tight  skin,  which  kept  out  the  wet ; 
but  he  did  not  see  how  they  were  guarded  from 
animals. 

20.  The  master  said  it  was  by  their  taste.  "They 
are  hard  and  sour  before  they  are  fiiU-grown,  and 
so  the  taste  is  not  pleasant,  and  nobody  wants  to 
eat  them — except  sometimes  a  few  foolish  boys, 
and  these  are  punished  by  being  made  sick.  When 
the  apples  are  full-grown  they  change  their  taste, 
acquire^  an  agreeable  flavor,'  and  become  mellow : 
then  they  can  be  eaten.  Can  you  tell  me  of  any 
other  fruits  which  are  preserved  in  this  way^  ?" 

21.  One  boy  answered, "  Strawberries  and  black- 
berries ;"  and  another  said, "  Peaches  and  pears." 

Another  boy  asked  why  the  peach-stone  was  not 
outside  the  peach,  so  as  to  keep  the  peach  from 
being  eaten.  But  the  master  said  he  would  ex- 
plain this  another  time.  Then  he  dismissed  the 
scholars,  after  asking  Roger  to  wait  until  the  rest 
had  gone,  as  he  wished  to  see  him  alone. — Mount 
Vernon  Reader, 


»  Gath'-er-tng,  collecting. 

''  Im-pa'-tient,  unquiet;  uneaay. 

•=  Vile,  mean ;  ugly ;  troublesome. 

«*  Pro-fane',  with  an  oath. 

*  Satch'-el,  a  little  sack,  or  bag. 


f  Hes'-i-ta-tet),  paused  in  doubt. 
8  Gttard'-ed,  protected  from  iujury. 
•>  Ac-quire',  have ;  obtain, 
i  Fla'-vor,  taste ;  savor. 


[Lesson  LIV.  In  the  story  of  "The  Chestnut-bur,"  an  impatient, 
fault-finding  boy,  who  could  not  see  why  chestnuts  are  made  to  grow  in 
hurs^  is  reproved ;  and  good  reasons  are  shown  why  the  chestnut  has  such 
a  prickly  covering.  It  guards  the  nut,  while  the  latter  is  small  and  un- 
ripe :  it  prevents  the  rain  from  wetting  it,  and  the  sun  from  drying  it,  etc. 
Why  apples,  strawberries,  blackberries,  etc.,  do  not  need  such  protection. 
The  moral  to  be  deduced  from  the  lesson  is,  that  infinite  wisdom  is  shown 
in  all  the  Creator's  works.     Let  the  teacher  illustrate,  farther,] 


124 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  LY. 
The  Feeed  Butteeply. 


1.  Yes,  go,  little  butterfly. 

Fan  the  warm  air 
With  your  soft  silken  pinions,* 

So  brilliant  and  fair ; 
A  poor  fluttering^  prisoner 

No  longer  you'll  be ; 
There !  out  of  the  window ! 

You  are  free — you  are  free ! 

2.  Go,  rest  on  the  bosom 

Of  some  favorite^  flower ; 
Go,  sport  in  the  sunlight 

Your  brief  little  hour  ; 
For  your  day,  at  the  longest. 

Is  scarcely  a  span  :^ 
Then  go  and  enjoy  it ; 

Be  gay  while  you  can. 


THIRD  READER. 

3.  As  for  me,  I  have  something 

More  useful  to  do : 
I  must  work,  I  must  learn — 

Though  I  play  sometimes,  too. 
All  your  days,  with  the  blossoms, 

Bright  thing,  you  may  spend  ; 
They  will  close  with  the  summer, 

Mine  never  shall  end. — T.  S.  Arthur. 


125 


»  Pnst'-IONS,  wings. 

••  Flut'-teb-ing,  flapping  the  wings. 


Fa'-voe-ite,  preferred ;  beloved. 
Span,  short  space  of  time. 


[  Lesson  LV.  is  an  address  to  a  butterfly,  set  free  by  the  maiden  who 
had  held  it  a  prisoner.  While  the  butterfly  is  told  to  go  and  enjoy  itself, 
in  gayety  and  pleasure,  because  its  days  will  end  with  the  blossoms  of  sum- 
mer, the  maiden  reflects  that  slie  has  something  "more  useful  to  do,"  as 
her  days  will  never  end.     A  future  life  is  to  be  provided  for.] 


LESSON  LYI. 
The  Farmer  in  Summer. 


-vu^':^ 


Haying  Time. 


1.  In  the  summer  time,  when  the  grass  in  the 
meadows  has  grown  to  its  full  height,  the  farmer 


126  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

cuts  it  down  with  the  scythe,  or  with  a  machine  ^ 
called  a  mower,  which  is  drawn  by  horses.    In  the 
picture  at  the  beginning  of  this  lesson,  a  man  may 
be  seen  cutting  the  grass  with  a  mower,  and  others 
cutting  it  with  the  scythe. 

2.  When  the  grass  has  been  dried  in  the  sun,  it 
is  called  hay.  The  farmer  rakes  this  fresh  hay  into 
winrows,  \sometimes  with   a  hand-rake,  but  now 

more  frequently^  with 
a  rake  drawn  by  a 
horse,  and  called  a 
horse-rake.  In  the  lit- 
tle picture  in  the  mar- 
gin^ a  man  is  shown 
raking  hay  with  the 
horse-rake. 

3.   Men   pitch  the 
hay  on  wagons,  and 

The  Horse-rake.  J^    ^g   ^^^^    AySlWH    lutO 

the  barn,  and  piled  away  on  the  hay-mow ;  or  it  is 
placed  in  the  open  field,  in  large  heaps  called  hay- 
stacks. The  hay  is  the  food,  or  fodder^vwhich  is 
given  to  the  cattle,  and  horses,  and  sheep,  in  the 
winter  season,  when  they  can  no  longer  find  any 
green  grass  in  the  fields. 

4.  The  haying  season  is  a  busy  time  for  the 
farmer.  He  knows  he  must  "  make  hay  while  the 
sun  shines."  When  the  grass  has  been  ^ut  down, 
and  has  become  nearly  dry,  the  hay  will  be  much 
injured  if  it  get  wet.  So  the  farmer  must  watch 
the  clouds;  and  if  they  threaten\ rain,  he  must 
hasten*^  to  get  the  hay  into  the  barn. 


THIRD  READER. 


127 


5.  Here  is  a  picture  of  getting  in  the  hay.  Can 
you  described?  Do  you  see  how  dark  it  is  in 
the  far  west^  ?  Does  it  look  like  a  storm  ?  Per- 
haps it  is  a  hail-storm,  with  thunder  and  lightning. 
Did  you  ever  see  a  hail-storm  in  haying-time,  or  in 
the  time  of  harvest  ? 


A  Thunder-storm.     Getting  in  the  Hay. 

6.  How  quickly  the  hay  is  pitched  on  the  wagon, 
or  cart,  by  the  strong  arms  of  the  farmer  and  his 
men^ !  And  then  away  go  the  •teams  to  the  barn 
as  fast  as  they  can  be  driven.  Just  as  the  farmer 
gets  his  last  load  into  the  barn,  perhaps  a  loud  and 
near  clap  of  thunder  startles^  him,  and  down  pours 
the  rain  in  torrents.  ^ 

7.  Now  it  may  rain — rain — ^rain ;  but  the  farmer 
cares  not.  Now  he  likes  to  see  it  rain.  How  green 
it  makes  the  pastures,^after  the  long  drouth^  !^  And 
the  hay  stubblevin  the  meadows  begins  to  look 


128 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


fresh  again^ !  The  "  rain  upon  the  roof"  is  now  a 
pleasant  sound  to  the  farmer.  It  would  not  be 
quite  so  pleasant  if  his  hay  were  in  the  field. 


'  Fbe'-qttent-ly,  often. 

■>  MAB'-{iiN,  side  of  the  page. 

*  Thebat'-en,  indicate ;  foreshow. 


^  Has'-ten,  hurry. 

«  Staet'le,  alarm  suddenly. 

f  Deouth,  dryness ;  want  of  rain. 


[Lesson  LVI.  The  story  of  the  farmer's  life  is  here  continued,  from 
Lesson  LII.  The  methods  of  cutting  the  grass,  and  of  raking  up  the 
hay,  are  described,  and  illustrated.  A  thunder-storm  in  haying-time  is 
described,  and  its  effects  shown  in  the  hurrying  of  the  farmer  and  his  men 
to  secure  the  hay.     The  effect  of  the  rain  upon  the  dry  pastures,  etc.] 


LESSON  LYIL 
The  Farmer  in  Summer — Continued. 


Harvest  Time. 


1.  After  haying,  conies  the  harvest\  or  gathering 
in  of  the  wheat',  and  the  rye',  the  barley',  the  oats', 
and  the  peas',  and  some  other  erops\^  Here  is  a 
picture  of  a  harvest  scene. 


THIRD  HEADER.  129 

2.  The  wheat-harvest  is  a  busy,  hurrying  time. 
It  is  the  great  event  of  the  year  for  the  farmer  in 
some  parts  of  our  Northern  States.  The  farmer 
must  have  all  his  workmen  engaged  in  season,  for 
the  harvest  must  not  be  delayed.^ 

3.  Do  you  know  when  the  wheat  must  be  gath- 
ered? The  wheat  must  be  cut  down  when  the 
stalk  or  straw  turns'"  yellow.  Then  the  kernel,  or 
grain^,  which  before  was  milky,  and  light',  becomes 
hard  and  heavy^;  and  the  head  of  the  wheat,  which 
before  stood  erectV^  bends  downward  with  its  own 
weight.     Then  it  is  time  to  begin  the  harvest. 

4.  A  man  cuts  the  wheat  with  a  sicMe'^  or  with 
a  farming  implement  called  a  cradle'^  or  it  is  cut  by 
a  machine  called  a  reaper^ ^  which  is  drawn  by  horses. 
These  different  ways  of  cutting  grain  are  shown  in 
the  picture  at  the  head  of  the  lesson. 

5.  After  the  wheat  has  been  cut  down,  it  is 
bound  in  sheaves  or  bundles,  which  are  put  up  in 
bunches  of  a  dozen  or  more,  called  shocks^  or  stoohs. 
The  bundles  then  remain  in  the  field  until  the 
straw  has  become  thoroughly  dried,  when  they  are 
carried  to  the  barn. 

6.  Eye,  and  barley,  and  oats,  are  cut  and  gath- 
ered in  a  similar  manner,  except  that  the  barley  is 
often  mown,  like  grass,  and  is  not  then  bound  in 
bundles.  Can  you  tell  what  use  is  made  of  wheat, 
and  rye,  and  barley,  and  oats'  ? 

a  Crops,  farming  produce.  I  *^  Turns,  is  becoming. 

^  De-lay'ed,  put  off ;  deferred.  |  '^  E-eect',  not  leaning ;  upright. 

[Lesson  LVII.     Harvest-time  is  here  described,  and  illustrated  by  a 

view  of  the  laborers  in  the  harvest-field.     The  wheat  harvest.     When  the 

wheat  must  be  gathered.     The  different  methods  of  cutting  the  grain,  as 

shown  in  the  picture.    How  the  wheat  is  secured.    Rve,  barley,  oats,  etc.] 

F  2 


13G  ,  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  LYIII. 
Give  to  the  Poor. 

1.  Though  but  a  trifle,  something  give 

To  help  the  poor  along :  , 

'Tis  not  how  much\  it  is  the  wilt 
That  makes  the  virtue  strong. 

2.  You  have  but  little'  ?    Never  say  • 

"  'Tis  of  no  use  to  give :" 
A  penny,  if  you  give  to-day, 
May  make  the  dying  live. 

3.  It  is  the  motive,*  not  the  gold, 

Upon  the  water  cast. 
That  will  return  a  hundred  fold,^ 
To  cheer  and  bless  at  last. 

4.  Then  give  a  trifle  cheerfully  ^ 

Fron>  out  thy  little  store. 
And  it  will  all  return  to  thee 
When  thou  wilt  need  it  more. 

o  Mo'-TivE,  intention.  |  *>  Fold,  times. 

[Lesson  LVIII.  is  a  plea  for  charity  to  the  poor.  In  what  the  virtue 
of  giving  consists.  The  plea  that  we  have  but  little,  and  that,  therefore,  it 
is  of  "no  use  to  give,"  answered.  What  is  the  meaning  of  the  third  verse? 
Where,  in  the  Bible,  may  the  following  verse  be  found  ?  "  Cast  thy  bread 
upon  the  waters ;  for  thou  shalt  find  it  after  many  days."  How  will  what 
we  give  return  to  us  ?] 


LESSON  LIX. 
Who  was  the  Gentleman? 

1.  And  do  you  think  you  are  a  gentleman'? 
Why^?  Is  it  because  you  carry  a  little  dandy 
cane',  smoke  cigars',  and  wear  your  hat  on  one  side 
of  your  head'  ?     Is  that  the  way  to  be  a  gentle- 


THIRD  READER.  131 

man'  ?     Read  the  following  story,  and  decide  wliat 
it  is  that  makes  the  gentleman. 

2.  One  afternoon,  last  spring,  there  had  been  a 
sndden  gust  of  wind,  and  a  slight  shower  of  rain. 
But  the  clouds  soon  passed  away.  The  sun  shone 
out  brightly,  and  the  rain-drops  sparkled  like  dia- 
monds upon  the  trees  of  Boston  Common. 

3.  The  Boston  boys  love  the  Common;  and 
well  they  may ;  for  where  could  they  find  a  more 
glorious  play -ground?  During  the  shower,  the 
boys  had  taken  shelter  under  the  trees';  as  soon 
as  it  was  passed,  they  resumed""  their  amuse- 
ments. ^ 

4.  On  one  of  the  crossings,  or  walks,  appeared  a 
small,  plainly-dressed  old  woman,  with  a  cane  in 
one  hand,  and  a  large  green  umbrella  in  the  other. 
She  was  bent  with  age  and  infirmity,^  and  walked 
slowly. 

5.  The  green  umbrella  was  open,  and  turned  up 
in  the  most  comical''  manner.  The  wind  had  sud- 
denly reversed"^  it,  without  the  consent  or  knowl- 
edge of  the  old  lady,  and  she  now  held  it  in  one 
hand,  like  a  huge  flower  with  a  long  stalk. 

6.  "  Hurrah !  hurrah !"  cried  one  of  the  boys, 
pointing  to  the  umbrella.  "Mammoth  cabbages 
for  sale!     Mammoth  cabbages!" 

7.  The  whole  rabble  of  boys  joined  in  the  cry, 
and  ran  hooting  after  the  poor  old  woman.  She 
looked  at  them  with  grave®  wonder,  and  endeav- 
ored^ to  hasten  her  tottering  footsteps. 

8.  They  still  pursued  her,  and  at  length  began 
pelting  with  pebbles  the   up-standing  umbrella; 


132  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

some    crying  "Mammotli   cabbages,"   and   others 
"  New-fashioned  sun-shades." 

9.  She  turned  again,  and  said,  with  tears  in  her 
eyes,  ^^  What  have  I  done,  my  little  lads,  that  you 
should  thus  trouble  me^  ?" 

10.  "It  is  a  shame,"  said  a  neatly-dressed, fine- 
looking  boy,  who  rushed  through  the  crowd  to  the 
rescue^  of  the  poor  old  woman. 

11.  "Madam,"  said  he,  "your  umbrella  was 
turned  by  the  wind.  Will  you  allow  me  to  close 
it  for  you  ?" 

12.  "I  thank  you,"  she  replied.  "Then  that  is 
what  those  boys  are  hooting  -at !  Well,  it  does 
look  funny,"  added  she,  as  she  looked  at  the  cause 
of  their  merriment.  The  kind-hearted  boy  endeav- 
ored to  turn  down  the  umbrella,  but  it  was  no  easy 
task ;  the  whalebones  seemed  obstinately  bent  on 
standing  upright. 

13.  The  boys  now  changed  the  object  of  their 
attack,  and  the  pebbles  rattled  like  hail  upon  the 
manly  fellow  who  was  struggling  to  relieve  the 
poor  woman  from  her  awkward  predicament.^ 

14.  "You  are  a  mean  fellow,  to  spoil  our  fun," 
said  they ;  "  but  you  can't  come  it :  cabbage  leaves 
will  grow  upward." 

15.  He,  however,  at  length  succeeded,  and,  clos- 
ing the  troublesome  umbrella,  handed  it  to  the  old 
w^oman  with  a  polite  bow. 

16.  "  Thank  you,  thank  you,  a  thousand  thanks, 
sir,"  said  she ;  "  and  I  should  like  to  know  your 
name,  that  I  may  repay  you  whenever  I  can  find 
an  opportunity." 


THIRD  READER.  183 

17.  "By  no  means,"  replied  he.  "I  am  happy 
to  have  rendered  you  this  trifling  service ;"  and  he 
walked  away. 

18.  "Well,"  said  she,  "whoever  you  are,  your 
father  and  mother  have  reason  to  be  proud  of  you, 
for  you  are  a  gentleman — a  perfect  gentleman." 

19.  And  so  he  was  a  gentleman;  and  I  wish  I 
could  tell  you  his  name,  that  you  may  see  if  my 
prophecy'  does  not  prove  true. 

20.  "Manners  make  the  man,"  you  may  often 
have  written  in  very  legible-^  characters  in  your 
copy-books.  They  certainly  do  go  very  far  toward 
making  the  gentleman.  But  a  true  gentleman 
must  have  a  good  heart  also. 


e  Kes'-cue,  aid ;  relief;  deliverance. 

h  Pee-I)ic'-a-ment,  unfortunate  condition. 

'  Proph'-e-cy,  declaration  of  something  to 

come. 
J  LEi'-i-jJLB,  plain;  readable. 


"  Ee-sttmed',  began  again. 

^  In-fibm'-i-ty,  feebleness, 

«  Com'-ic-al,  droll ;  laughable. 

^  Re-versed',  turned  back, 

*  Grave,  serious. 

'  En-»eav'-oee»,  tried ;  attempted. 

[Lesson  LIX.  very  happily  illustrates  the  character  of  the  true  gentle- 
man. It  was  not  only  not  gentlemanly  for  the  boys  to  annoy  a  poor  old 
woman  for  sport,  but  it  was  cruel,  and  wicked  in  them.  The  boy  who 
braved  the  derision  and  resentment  of  his  comrades  by  going  to  the  res- 
cue of  the  old  lady,  was  a  gentleman,  not  merely  because  he  did  a  courte- 
ous act,  but  because  he  did  it  from  kind  feelings  and  good  motives.  It  is 
impossible  for  a  bad  man,  or  a  bad  boy,  to  be  a  gentleman.] 


LESSON  LX. 
The  Music  of  Insects. 

1.  The  evening  after  we  had  been  talking  about 
the  crickets,^*  we  were  all  sitting  around  the  table, 
Aunt  Mary  knitting,  and  Lucy  and  Minnie  engaged'' 
with  their  sewing.^    Willie,  having  closed  his  book, 

*  Sec  page  95. 


134  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

had  been  for  some  time  gazing  into  the  fire,  as  if  in 
deep  thought,  when  he  abruptly""  broke  the  silence 
by  turning  to  Uncle  John,  and  asking, "  Uncle  John, 
do  not  the  'katydids  sing^  ?" 

2.  Before  Uncle  John  had  time  to  reply,  Lucy 
took  it  upon  herself  to  answer :  "  Why,  yes\  Wil- 
lie', the  katydids  sing  nearly  every  summer  night\ 
and  all  through  the  pleasant  evenings  of  autumn. 
Don't  you  remember  that  the  trees  around  the 
house  seemed'^  to  be  full  of  them' ;  and  that  when 
one  called  out '  Katy  did,'  another  would  sing  back 
^  Katy  didn't'  ?'  And  don't  you  remember  the  story 
about  Miss  Katy  and  her  lover,  which  Uncle  John 
read  to  us  one  evening,  after  we  had  been  listening 
to  the  song  of  the  katydid' T 

3.  "  But  Uncle  John  told  us  the  cricket  does  not 
sing',"  said  Willie,  "  but  only  rubs  his  wings  to- 
gether\  to  make  that  chirping  noise  which  we 
thought  was  his  song^.  Uncle  John',  does  the  katy- 
did make  its  song  in  the  same  way' T 

4.  "  Yes,  yes,  in  just  the  same  way.  The  katy- 
did is  no  singer\  but  only  a  jiddler^^  just  as  the 
cricket  is.  And,  what  is  strange,  it  is  Mi\  Katydid 
that  does  all  the  fiddling ;  but  whether  Mim  Katy- 
did does  the  dancing^ ^  or  not',  I  don't  know\  Wil- 
lie', did  you  ever  catch  a  katydid,  and  examine  it'  V 

5.  "  Yes,"  said  Willie^ "  I  caught  two  of  them  on 
a  cherry-tree  one  day  last  summer.  They  were 
about  an  inch  and  a  half  long,  of  a  pale  green 
color,  and  they  looked  very  much  like  grasshop- 
pers. Our  man  Henry  told  me  they  were  katydids : 
but  I  never  could  catch  one  in  the  evening ;  for,  as 


THIRD  READER.  135 

soon  as  I  touched  the  tree  on  wMcli  one  was  sing- 
ing— I  mean  fiddling — it  would  stop,  and  I  could 
not  find  it." 

6.  "  If  you  had  caught  the  one  that  plays  the 
tune  of  ^  katydidV  you  might  have  seen,  at  the  base 
of  each  outer  wing,  a  hard,  glassy  portion""  of  the 
wing,  shaped  somewhat  like  a  half  moon."^  It  is  by 
rubbing  these  together,  by  a  saw-like  motion  of  the 
wings,  that  the  insect  makes  the  noise  you  hear." 

7.  "  I  suppose,  then,"  said  Minnie,  ^'  that  the  lady 
katydids  have  to  keep  silence\  and  listen  to  the 
music  of  their  mates.  How  hard  it  must  be  always 
to  listen,  and  never  to  talk  or  sing  at  air — or,  per- 
haps I  should  say,  never  to  fiddle"  at  all." 

8.  "  Uncle  John,"  said  Lucy,  "  I  am  almost  sorry 
you  told  us  how  the  cricket  and  the  katydid  make 
their  songs — no,  not  songs — for  a  song  is  what  is 
sung.  It  is  very  puzzling^  not  to  know  how  to 
speak  of  the  noise  which  the  katydid  makes.  What 
shall  we  calP  it.  Uncle  John'  V 

9.  "  I  suppose  you  must  call  it  a  song,  for  that 
is  the  name  which  all  the  writers  give  to  all  such 
noises  of  insects,  however  they  are  made." 

10.  "Do  all  insects  make  their  noises,  or  songs, 
in  the  same  way  as  the  cricket  and  the  katydid'  ?" 
asked  Willie'. 

11."  Not  in  exactly  the  same  way.  All  the  grass- 
hoppers rub  their  outer  wings,  or  wing-covers,  to- 
gether ;  but  the  locust  rubs  the  inside  of  its  thighs 
against  its  wings." 

12.  "I  remember,  one  time  last  summer\"  said 

*  See  the  picture  of  the  male  katydid,  page  137. 


136  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

Willie,  '^  that  I  heard  a  ticking  noise  in  the  wall^ 
which  sounded  just  like  the  ticking  of  a  watch ; 
and  some  one  said  it  was  a  little  insect  that  made 
the  noise." 

13.  "Yes,  that  was  the  little  insect  which  has 
been  called  the  death-watcli^  because  ignorant  peo- 
ple once  thought  there  would  soon  be  a  death  in 
the  family  where  it  was  heard." 

14.  "  But  how  does  the  death-watch  make  that 
noise^  ?  just  as  regular  as  the  ticking  of  a  watch," 
said  Willie.  "  And  I  wonder  why  it  makes  it," 
said  Lucy.     "  Can  you  tell  us.  Uncle  John^  V 

15.  "We  know  how  it  makes  the  noise,  for  it  has 
often  been  seeii  doing  it.  It  is  by  knocking  with 
its  jaws  against  the  wood  on  which  it  is  standing. 
And  this  noise,  which  has  frightened  so  many  peo- 
ple, is  said  to  be  the  call  of  the  insect  to  its  mate." 

16.  "  And,  then,  there  is  one  of  the  hawk-moths, 
that  makes  a  mournful  sound  by  rubbing  its  suck- 
ing-tube, or  prO'hos^-cis^  as  it  is  called,  against  a 
hard,  glassy  surface  beneath  it.  Some  ignorant 
people  are  alarmed  when  they  hear  this  noise,  for 
they  think  it  is  a  funeral  hymn  for  the  dead." 

17.  "I  am  sure  I  shall  never  be  frightened  at 
any  of  the  noises  which  insects  make,"  said  Willie. 
"  Nor  I,"  said  Lucy,  "  if  I  only  know  it  is  an  insect 
that  makes  them." 


<*  Skem'ei),  appeared. 
«  Por'-tion,  piece;  part, 
f  Puz'-ZLiNG,  perplexing. 


^  En-ga«ed',  occupied ;  employed. 
*»  Sew'-ing,  pronounced  so'-ing. 
*=  Ab-kcpt'-ly,  suddenly. 

[Lesson  LX.  is  a  continuation  of  the  study  of  insects,  from  Lesson  XLV. 
The  manner  in  which  the  katydid  makes  its  music  is  explained.  What  is 
said  of  the  noises  made  by  grasshoppers,  locusts,  the  death-watch,  and  the 
hawk-moths.   The  light  of  science  has  dispelled  many  superstitions  fancies.] 


THIRD  READER. 


137 


LESSON  LXI. 
The    Katydid. 


Male  Katydid. 


Female  Katydid. 


1.  Many  pretty  little  poems  have  been  written 
about  the  katydid,  and  many  times  the  question 
has  been  asked  of  this  evening  minstrel*,  "  Who  is 
this  Katy,  about  whom  you  are  constantly  singing\ 
and  what  is  it  that  Katy  did^  T  It  has  been  sup- 
posed by  some  that  Mis8  Katydid  sings  the  song 
we  hear.     Thus,  one  has  written : 

2.  "  Thou  art  a  female',  katydid' ! 
I  know  it  by  the  trill^ 
That  quivers  through  thy  piercing  notes, 
So  petulanf^  and  shrill." 

3.  But  no^ !  For  once,  the  poet  was  mistaken ; 
for  it  is  found  that  Miss  Katydid  has  no  words  in 
which  to  express"^  either  her  joys  or  her  sorrows. 
The  unfortunate  creature  is  dumb ! 


138 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


4.  Again,  some  one  pretends  that,  while  he  was 
listening  to  the  katydid's  song,  he  heard  the  gentle 
notes  of  some  little  unseen  fairy,  complaining  of 
what  the  katydid  sung,  but  hoping  that  he  would 
not  tell  any  thing  more.  To  this  complaint,  and 
request,  we  may  suppose  the  kind  katydid  made 
the  following  reply : 

5.  "  But  never  fear^  me,  gentle  one', 

Nor  waste  a  thought  or  tear, 
Lest  I  should  whisper  what  I  heard 

In  any  mortal®  ear. 
I  only  sport  among  the  boughs\ 

'And,  like  a  spirit  hid', 
I  think  on  what  I  saw  and  heard, 

And  laugh  out  '  Katydid.' 

6.  "  I  sit  among  the  leaves  here, 

.When  evening  zephyrs^  sigh\ 
And  those  that  listen  to  my  voice 

I  love  to  mystify  :^ 
I  never  tell  them  alP  I  know'. 

Although  I'm  often  bid  ; 
I  laugh  at  curiosity. 

And  chirrup*^  '  Katydid.'  " 

7.  So,  after  all  our  curiosity,  we  must  still  re- 
main ignorant  of  what  "  Katy  did,"  although  the 
little  chirping'  minstrel  says  he  knows.  We  half 
suspect,  however,  that  the  "  Katy"  of  the  song  is- 
Miss  Katydid  herself,  and  that  she  did  just  noth- 
ing at  all  but  listen  to  the  evening  serenade^  of  her 
joyful  mate. 


»  Min'-steel,  a  musician;  a  singer. 

"=  Tkill,  a  quaver,  or  shaking  of  the  voice 

in  singing. 
«  Pet'-u-l,ant,  saucy;  pert. 
•*  Ex-PEE8s',  relate;  tell. 
«  Mob'-tal,  human. 
*  Zeph'-yr,  any  soft,  gentle  breeze. 


8  Mys'-ti-fy,  perplex;  puzzle. 

h  ChTe'-eup,  to  chirp,  like  a  cricket. 

'  Chiep'-ing,  pronounced  churp'-ing. 

I  Ser-e-nade',  music  usually  performed  at 
night,  and  under  windows,  for  the  en- 
tertainment of  ladies. 


THIRD  READER.  139 

[Lesson  LXL  A  fanciful  and  poetical  view  is  here  given  of  those  in- 
teresting insects,  the  katydids.  It  is  a  singular  fact,  that  all  the  musicians 
among  the  crickets,  the  grasshoppers,  etc.,  are,  like  the  feathered  minstrels 
of  grove  and  garden,  of  the  masculine  sex.] 


LESSON  LXII. 
The  Goodness  of  God. 

1.  The  Lord  is  good  to  all ;  and  his  tender  mer- 
cies'" are  over  all  his  works. 

2.  The  Lord  is  gracious,^  and  full  of  compas- 
sion f  slow  to  anger,  and  of  great  mercy. 

3.  The  Lord  upholdeth*^  all  that  fall,  and  raiseth 
up  all  those  that  arer  bowed  down.  He  healeth 
the  broken  in  heart,  and  bindeth  up  their  wounds. 

4.  The  eyes  of  all  wait  upon  thee,  O  Lord ;  and 
thou  givest  them  their  meat  in  due  season. 

5.  Thou  openest  thy  hand,  and  satisfiest  the  de- 
sire^ of  every  living  thing. 

6.  The  Lord  is  nigh  unto  all  them  that  call  upon 
him:  he  will  fulfill  the  ^desire  of  them  that  fear 
him:  he  will  also  hear  their  cry,  and  will  save  them. 

7.  The  Lord  preserveth  all  them  that  love  him : 
but  all  the  wicked  will  he  destroy. 

8.  As  for  me,  I  will  call  upon  the  Lord,  and  he 
shall  save  me.  Evening,  and  morning,  and  at  noon, 
will  I  pray,  and  cry  aloud ;  and  he  shall  hear  my 
voice. 

9.  In  God  have  I  put  my  trust  f  and  I  will  not 
be  afraid  what  man  can  do  unto  me. 


»  Meb'-cif.s,  goodness ;  disposition  to  treat 

kindly. 
^  Gra'-cious,  disposed  to  forgive;  merciful. 
«  CoM-PAs'-siON,  pity;  a  desire  to  relieve 

those  who  suffer. 


Up-holp'-eth,  holds  up ;  supports;  keeps 

from  falling. 
De-siee',  wants ;  longings. 
Trust,  reliance;  confidence. 


[Lesson  LXII.  consists  of  verses  selected  from  the  Psalms,  in  which  the 


140 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


psalmist  celebrates  the  goodness  of  God ;  closing  with  the  declaration  that 
in  God  he  will  put  his  trust,  and  will  not  fear  what  man  can  do  unto  him. 
More  solemnity  of  tone  and  manner  is  required  in  reading  this,  than  an 
ordinary  narrative  piece.     See  also  Note  to  Lesson  LXX.J 


LESSON  LXIII. 
Courage  and  Pbesence  of  Mind. 


1.  While  Edward  Jones  and  George  Williams 
were  strapping  on  their  skates,  they  heard  a  cry 
of  terror  from  Henry  Lee,  who  had  reached  the 
pond  some  little  time  before  them.  Looking  np, 
they  saw  Henry  struggling  in  the  water.  He  had 
broken  through  the  ice,  where  it  was  very  thin ; 
and  as  at  every  attempt  he  made  to  get  out,  the  ice 
broke  with  the  weight  of  his  body,  he  was  in  dan- 
ger of  drowning,  or  of  being  chilled  to  death,  un- 
less speedy*  assistance  came  to  him. 


THIRD  READER.  14,1 

2.  But  what  did  his  two  companions,  Edward 
and  George,  do  ?  Edward  was  so  frightened  that 
he  threw  off  his  skates,  and  ran  back,  screaming, 
toward  home ;  but  George,  with  more  presence^  of 
mind  and  courage,  seized  a  long  pole  that  lay  upon 
the  shore,  and  ran  as  quickly  as  possible  to  the 
place  where  Henry  was  struggling  in  the  water. 

3.  "  Don't  be  frightened,  Henry,"  he  called  out ; 
"don't  be  frightened — I'm  coming  to  help  you." 
At  this  Henry  ceased  his  violent  efforts,  and  re- 
mained quiet  until  George  came  up  as  near  as  it 
was  prudent  to  come,  and  reached  out  the  pole 
carefully  to  him. 

4.  "  Now  hold  on  to  that,"  said  he,  coolly.  The 
poor  lad  in  the  water  did  not  wait  to  be  asked 
twice.  With  both  hands  he  grasped  the  pole. 
Then  George  lay  down  at  full  length,  and  keeping 
one  hand,  for  support,  on  the  pole,  he  crept  up  so 
close  to  the  broken  place  in  the  ice,  that  he  could 
grasp  one  of  Henry's  hands. 

5.  "  Easy — easy,"  said  he,  in  a  calm,  encouraging 
voice,  as  Henry  caught  his  arm  eagerly,  and  was  in 
danger  of  dragging  him  in  also.  "  Don't  struggle 
so  hard,"  said  George ;  "  be  a  little  more  quiet,  and 
I  will  get  you  out."  This  gave  Henry  more  con- 
fidence;°  and  after  this  it  took  but  a  moment  for 
George  to  pull  the  lad  out  of  the  water,  and  get 
him  beyond  all  danger. 

6.  The  two  boys  were  more  than  half  way  home 
when  they  met  a  number  of  men,  whom  Edward 
Jones  had  alarmed  by  his  cries  for  help,  running 
at  full  speed  to  rescue^  the  drowning  lad.     They 


\ 


142  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

praised  George  for  his  noble  conduct ;  and  this  was 
very  pleasant  to  him,  but  not  half  so  pleasant  as 
the.  reflection  that  he  had  saved  the  life  of  his 
young  playmate. 

7.  On  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  Mr.  Jones, 
the  father  of  Edward,  took  his  son  into  his  room, 
and  when  they  were  alone,  said  to  him,  "  Why  was 
it,  my  son,  that  you  did  not,  like  George  Williams, 
go  immediately  to  the  aid  of  Henry  Lee,  when  you 
saw  him  struggling  in  the  water  V 

8.  "  I  was  so  frightened,"  replied  the  boy,  "  that 
I  did  not  know  what  I  was  doing."  "And  this 
fright,"  said  his  father,  "  would  have  cost  Heniy 
his  life,  if  there  had  not  been  another  boy  near  to 
save  him."  Edward  looked  serious,  and  his  eyes 
were  cast  upon  the  floor.  "I'm  sorry,"  he  said, 
"but  I  could  not  help  it," 

9.  "  Don't  say  that  you  could  not  help  it,  my 
son,"  replied  Mr.  Jones.  "  It  is  the  duty  of  all  to 
overcome  such  fear,  for  every  one  should  be  brave, 
and  ready  to  risk  even  life  itself  to  save  others. 
And  now  let  me  tell  you  what  happened  when  I 
was  a  boy. 

10.  "Two  children  were  playing  near  a  deep 
spring,  that  was  walled  up  at  the  sides.  One  of 
them  was  only  four  years  old ;  the  other  was  seven. 
The  larger  boy's  name  was  Frank.  While  Frank 
was  playing  by  himself,  he  heard  a  splash,  and  turn- 
ing round,  he  saw  that  his  brother  had  fallen  head 
foremost  into  the  spring,  and  was  struggling  in  the 
water. 

11.  "Frank  was  terribly  alarmed,  and  his  heart 


THIRD  READER.  143 

beat  so  loud  that  it  seemed  to  him  any  one  stand- 
ing near  might  have  heard  it.  What  did  he  do^? 
Did  he  run  away  for  help^  ?  No.  Little  as  he  was, 
he  was  thoughtful  and  brave,  and  instead  of  start- 
ing off  to  get  some  one  to  come  and  save  his  broth- 
er, he  laid  hold  of  him  by  the  legs,  and  after  a 
great  effort  succeeded  in  dragging  the  already  half- 
drowned  child  from  the  spring. 

12.  "I  must  tell  you  another  circumstance  that 
happened  to  these  two  brothers.  One  day  they 
were  playing  by  the  side  of  the  deep  trough  that 
receives  the  water  from  your  uncle's  mill-race,® 
when  the  little  one  slipped  off  the  bank  .into  the 
rapid  current.  In  an  instant  the  child  went  sweep- 
ing down  toward  the  open  mill-gate,  through  which 
the  water  was  rushing  right  down  upon  the  great 
wheels. 

13.  "If  Frank  had  hesitated  a  moment, his  little 
brother  would  have  been  lost ;  but  the  brave  boy 
sprang  at  once  to  the  rescue,*'  and  leaning  dovni,  he 
caught  the  child  by  the  clothes,  and  held  on  to  him 
eagerly.  The  water  was  so  far  down,  and  Frank 
had  to  stoop  so  low,  that  he  had  not  strength  to 
pull  his  brother  out ;  so  he  could  do  nothing  but 
hold  on  to  him,  and  scream  loudly  for  help. 

14.  "  But  the  noise  of  the  mill  was  so  great  that 
the  millers  could  not  hear  his  voice,  and  thus  near- 
ly five  minutes  passed  away,  and  Frank  was  nearly 
exhausted,"  when  a  man  who  was  going  by  saw 
him,  and  ran  down  along  the  mill-race,  and  rescued 
the  drowning  child. 

15.  "  Thus  it  was  that  the  courage  and  presence^ 


144  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

of  mind  of  Frank  had  twice  saved  the  life  of  a 
brother.  Now  suppose,  Edward,  that  he  had  been 
too  much  frightened  to  think  or  act  in  a  proper 
manner,  as  you  were  to-day — don't  you  think  his 
little  brother  would  have  been  killed  on  the  wheels 
of  the  mill  r 

16.  Edward  shuddered  at  the  thought.  "That 
brave  lad,"  continued  Mr.  Jones,  "  was  your  uncle 
Frank ;  and  the  brother  whose  life  he  saved  is  now 
your  father."  "  You',  father,  you' !"  exclaimed  Ed- 
ward, in  surprise.  '^  Did  Uncle  Frank  twice  save 
your  life'  ?" 

17.  '*  Yes,  my  son,  I  fell  into  the  spring;  and  your 
uncle,  by  his  promptness  to  act,  saved  me  from 
drowning ;  and  1  fell  into  the  mill-race,  and  there 
his  courage  and  presence  of  mind  saved  me  a  sec- 
ond time.  What  would  have  become  of  me,  Ed- 
ward, if  my  brother  had  done  as  you  did  to-day^?" 

18.  Edward's  thoughts  went  back  to  the  mill- 
pond,  where  he  had  seen  Henry  Lee  struggling  in 
the  hole  in  the  ice ;  and  he  now  saw  how  easily  he 
might  have  rescued'^  him  from  his  perilous^  situa- 
tion, instead  of  running  away,  frightened,  scream- 
ing for  others  afar  off  to  do  what  was  needed  to  be 
done  at  the  moment. 

19.  He  felt,  painfully  too,  that  his  playfellow 
would  have  been  drowned,  had  not  George  Wil- 
liams, with  true  bravery,  gone  instantly  to  his  aid. 
His  own  conduct  appeared  in  a  most  unfavorable 
light.  It  was  a  moment  of  self  reproach  and  mor- 
tification '}  but  it  was  not  without  its  good  effects 
upon  Edward,  who  resolved  to  act,  in  the  future. 


THIRD  READER. 


145 


with  more  presence  of  mind,  in  all  cases  of  danger 
that  might  occur. 


«  Speed'- Y,  prompt;  ready. 

''  Pees'-ence,  calmness ;  self-control. 

«  Con'-fi-dence,  belief  that  he  would  be 
saved. 

'^  REs'-otJE  (verb),  save ;  deliver  from  dan- 
ger. 


«  Mill'-raoe,  a  ditch,  or  canal,  to  convey 
water  to  a  mill. 

f  Ees'-cue  (noun),  deliverance  from  dan- 
ger, [strength. 

8  Ex-haxtst'-ed,    wearied ;     deprived    of 

^  Per'-il-ous,  dangerous. 

'  Mok-ti-fi-oa'-tion,  humiliation. 

[Lesson  LXIII.  shows  the  importance  of  being  calm  and  brave  in  time 
of  danger.  How  George  Williams,  by  his  courage  and  presence  of  mind, 
saved  the  life  of  his  companion,  while  the  frightened  Edward  Jones  ran 
away.  What  was  said  in  the  conversation  between  Edward  and  his  father. 
The  incidents  mentioned  by  Mr.  Jones.  What  were  Edward's  reflections 
after  this  conversation.     How  he  resolved  to  act  in  future.] 


LESSON  LXIY. 
"Who  is  my  Neighbor^? 

1.  Who  is  thy  neighbor'  ?*    He  whom  thou 

Hast  power  to  aid  or  bless ; 
Whose  aching  head,  or  burning  brow 
Thy  soothing  hand  may  press. 

2.  Thy  neighbor  is  the  fainting  poor, 

Whose  eye  with  want  is  dim ; 
Oh,  enter  then  his  humble  door 
With  aid  and  peace  for  him. 

3.  Thy  neighbor'?     He  who  drinks  the  cup 

When  sorrow  drowns  the  brim ; 
With  words  of  ever-cheering  hope, 
Go  thou  and  comfort  him. 

4.  Thy  neighbor'  ?     Pass  no  mourner  by ; 

Perhaps  thou  canst  redeem 
A  breaking  heart  from  misery ; — 
Go  share  thy  lot  with  him. 

[Lesson  LXIV.,  which  is  in  reply  to  the  question,  "Who  is  my 
neighbor?"  is  given  in  illustration  of  the  principle  set  forth  in  the  tenth 
chapter  of  Luke,  from  the  twenty-fifth  to  the  thirty-seventh  verse,  inclu- 

*  For  the  rising  inflection  here,  see  Note  to  Rule  III. 

G 


146 


WILLSON'S  INTEKMEDIATE  SERIES. 


sive.  Let  the  pupil  read  these  verses  in  Luke,  after  which  he  will  the  bet- 
ter appreciate  the  lesson.  It  was  the  good  Samaritan  who  was  ^^  neighbor'' 
unto  him  that  fell  among  thieves.] 


LESSON  hXX, 
The  Uses  op  Insects. 

1.  "  I  can  not  see  the 
use  oi  spielers' — and  of  a 
great  many  other  ugly- 
looking  insects\"  said 
Willie.  "And,  besides', 
spiders  are  very  crueP, 
for  they  catch  flies,  and 

I  ifiWFH^^HS^^^^  kill  them',  and  suck  their 

I  liflLiy»^^^^»i  bloodV 

2.  "It  seems  to  me\ 
then',"  Uncle  John  qui- 
etly replied,  "that   the 

more  spiders^  there  are  in  the  stable',  the  less  will 
the  horses  suffer  from  the  flies\" 

3.  "I  did  not  think  of  that\"  said  Willie;  but, 
after  reflecting*  a  moment,  he  continued,  "But 
what  good  do  the  flies  do\  Uncle  John'  ?  And  if 
they"  do  no  good',  would  it  not  be  better  if  there 
were  neither  flies  nor  spiders'  V 

4.  "  Do  you  know\  Willie',  that  the  fish  you 
like  to  eat,  fatten  on  the  flies  that  hover  over  the 
stream'  ?  And  that  the  poultry,  especially  ducks 
and  turkeys,  and  also  great  numbers  of  birds, 
thrive^  all  the  better  for  the  caterpillars,  grass- 
hoppers, flies,  and  spiders,  which  they  pick  up  and 
eat,  as  a  relish  with  their  ordinary*'  food'  ?"  ' 


THIRD  READER. 


147 


*  Fliea  eating  sugar,  after  dissolving  it. 


5.  "But  what  do  the  flies  eat'?"  asked  Willie. 
"  Do  they  eat  other  little  insects,  not  so  big  as  the 
flies^?" 

6.  "  No.  The  common  house-fly,  and  some  oth- 
er kinds,  have  no 
mouths  for  eating — 
only  a  little  tube 
through  which  they 
suck  up  their  food, 
after  first  moistening 
it.  Thus  they  eat 
sugar,  after  dissolv- 
ing it  with  their  sa- 
liva.'^ 

7.  "  But,  although 
the  flies  are  sometimes  very  troublesome,  they  are 
useful  in  more  ways  than  one.  Wherever  pu- 
trid® meats  and  rotten  vegetables  are  found,  there 
the  flies  swarm  in  immense^  numbers  in  the  warm 
days  of  summer,  and  by  feeding  on  these  sub- 
stances they  do  much 
to  remove  the  causes 
of  disease." 

8.  Just  then  Minnie 
came  in  from  the  gar- 
den with  a  bowl  of 
currants  which  she  had 
picked  for  tea.  Taking 
up  a  stem  of  the  cur- 
rants on  which  was  a 
little    red -coated    and 

The  Lady-bird  and  the  Currants.  turtlc  -  shapcd      1 U  S  e  C  t, 


X48  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

Willie  remarked^  that  lie  had  seen  a  great  many 
of  them  before,  but  he  did  not  know  their  names. 

9.  "This',"  said  Uncle  John, "is  a  kind  oihe€tle\ 
called  a  lady-hird^.  And  it  comes  just  in  the  right 
time  to  teach  us  another  lesson  about  the  useful- 
ness of  insects." 

10.  "  But,  Uncle  John',  are  these  little  bugs  good 
for  any  thing'  ?  Do  they  do  any  good' T  asked 
Willie. 

11.  "I  don't  like  to  hear  them  called  hugs'^''  said 
Uncle  John.  "The  lady-birds  do  not  belong  to 
the  race  of  bugs\  but  to  a  much  more  respectable 
family.  They  are  heeiles'j  and  are  to  be  classed 
with  the  beetles'  and  the  weevils\  although  these 
latter,  I  confess,  sometimes  do  a  great  deal  of  dam- 
age."^ 

12.  "But  what  are  the  lady-hirds  good  for^?" 
asked  Willie.  "  That's  what  puzzles  me.  Don't 
they  eat  the  currants',  and  other  kinds  of  fruit', 
and  the  squash  vines',  and  the  pumpkin  vines', 
where  I  have  seen  so  many  of  them' T 

13.  "Not'  at  air,  not'  at  ally  said  Uncle  John. 
"  Both  the  lady-birds,  and  the  little  grubs  which 
produce  them,  feed  wholly  on  the  plant-lice  which 
destroy  so  many  of  our  garden  plants  and  vines. 
And  if  the  gardener  would  keep  an  army  of  these 
lady-birds',  the  garden  would  be  all  the  better  for 
it.  They  are  also  a  very  simple  and  sure  remedy* 
against  the  plant-lice  which  are  sometimes  so  de- 
structive to  the  plants  in  green-houses." 

14.  "This  is  all  new  to  me\"  said  Minnie;  "and 
the  next  time  these  little  lady-birds  get  on  my 


THIRD  READER.  149 

hands'  or  dress',  I  shall  not  think  them  so  very 
ugly  after  all\  I  do  think  their  colored  wings — 
some  red,  and  some  yellow — are  really  heautiful}^ 

15.  "Are  there  many  other  insects  that  are  as 
useful  as  the  lady -birds,  and  the  flies'?"  asked 
Willie. 

16.  "What  do  you  think  of  the  hees^  that  make 
the  honey  you  like  so  welP^  ?"  asked  Uncle  John. 

17.  "Yes, Willie',"  said  Minnie, "we  are  to  have 
some  honey  for  tea.  I  think  the  bee  is  much  more 
useful  than  the  lady-bird." 

18.  "  And  I  remember,"  said  Willie,  "  that  in  the 
third  chapter  of  Matthew,  which  we  had  for  our 
Bible  lesson  last  Sunday,  it  is  said  of  John  the 
Baptist,  ^  his  meat  was  locusts  and  wild  honey!' 
But  is  the  locust,  as  well  as  the  honey,  really  good 
food, Uncle  John'?" 

19.  "I  suppose  the  locust  mentioned  in  Matthew 
was  a  kind  of  grasshopper,"  said  Uncle  John, 
"  which  is  still  found  in  immense  numbers  in  some 
Eastern  countries,  and  is  used  there  as  a  common 
article  of  food." 

20.  "Are  there  any  other  useful  insects' ?"  asked 
Willie. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  silk-worm,  which 
makes  all  the  silk  that  is  used  in  silk  dresses,  and 
shawls,  and  gloves,  and  many  other  articles^  ?  Is 
the  silk-worm  of  any  use'  ?" 

21.  "But  is  the  silk- worm  an  insect!  f''  asked 
Willie.  "  I  did  not  know  that  worms'  were  called 
insects'." 

22.  "The  silk-worm,"  said  Uncle  John,  "is   a 


150 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


caterpillar.\  which,  after 
spinning  its  silF,  and 
winding  itself  up  in  a 
little  mass  of  it,  called 
a  cocoon',  comes  out  a 
butterfly,  or  moth." 

23.  "I  suppose  just 
like  the  common  cater- 
pillar which  you  told 
us  about,"  said  Willie. 
"  But  is  all  the  silk  in 

Silk-worm,  Cocoon,  Moth,  and  Moth's  Eggs.     ^J^^  WOrld  madc  by  SUch 

little  worms'?" 

24.  "  Yes,  all  of  it.  Byt  how  many  elegant  la- 
dies, do  you  suppose  ever  reflected^  that  their  most 
costly  and  most  beautiful  articles  of  dress,  are  fur- 
nished^ by  a  mere  worm) — by  a  common  caterpil- 
larM" 

25.  "But  are  there  many  other  useful  insects'?" 
asked  Willie. 

"  I  suppose  all  insects  have  their  uses,"  said  Un- 
cle John,  "  and  that  our  heavenly  Father  made  all 
of  them  for  wise  purposes.  But  where  do  you  sup- 
pose we  get  the  red,  and  crimson,  and  scarlet  col- 
ors, for  coloring  many  of  our  silk  and  cotton 
goods^r 

26.  "I'm  sure  I  don't  know\"  said  Willie.  But 
Minnie  said  that  Aunt  Mary  bought  some  cocM-i- 
neal^  at  the  drug-store,  a  few  days  ago,  to  color  a 
shawl ;  but  what  the  coch'-i-neal  was  made  of,  she 
did  not  know\ 

27.  "The  coch'-i-neaiy  said  Uncle  John,  "which 


THIRD  READER. 


151 


was  long  thought  to  be  the  seeds  of  a  plant,  is  a 
very  small  red  inseet\  that  is  obtained  in  great 
numbers  in  Mexico^,  and  in  some  of  the  warm 
countries  of  South  America.  It  is  found  feeding 
on  the  cactus  plant.  If  you  should  moisten  some 
of  the  dry  coch^-i-neal  in  vinegar^,  you  might  per- 
haps see  the  ringlets  of  the  insect's  body,  and  also 
its  little  feet. 

28.  "But  here  I  can  show 
you  a  picture  of  the  cactus 
plant  on  which  the  coch^-i-neal 
feeds,  and  also  a  picture  of  two 
of  the  insects,  although  both 
are  here  made  much  larger 
than  they  are  in  nature.  The 
male  insect  is  seen  on  the  left, 
and  the  female  on  the  right. 
It  is  the  female  insect — ugly- 
looking  as  it  is  here — which  is  so  much  prized""  for 
the  beauty  of  its  color." 

29.  "How  strange^?'  said  Lucy.  "I  wonder 
how  many  people  know  that  cocF-i-neal  is  only 
a  dried  insect \^  Poor  little  creatures!  I  won- 
der how  many  of  you  it  would  take  to  weigh  a 
pound !" 


Cactus  Plant  and  Cochineal 
Insects. 


h  Dam'-age,  injury. 
>  Rem'-e-dy,  cure. 
J  Re-flect'-ed,  considered. 
^  Fub'-nisiiei),  supplied. 
'  Pronounced  kotch'-in-eel. 
°>  Prized,  valued. 


■  Re-fleot'-inq,  thinking ;  considering. 

*  Thrive,  grow  fat. 

<=  Or'-di-na-ry,  usual;  customary. 

<*  Sa-li'-va,  spittle. 

«  Pu'-TBiD,  decajing;  rotten. 

''  Im-men8e',  very  great. 

8  Re-maek'bd,  said. 

[Lesson  LXV.  explains  some  of  the  uses  of  insects.  What  is  said  of 
spiders ;  of  caterpillars,  grasshoppers,  flies,  etc.  How  flies  eat  sugar. 
One  of  the  important  uses  of  flies.  What  is  said  of  the  lady-birds — what 
they  eat,  etc.     Bees  and  locusts.     The  silk- worm.     Cochineal.] 


152 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  LXYI 
The  Spider  and  the  Fly. — A  Fable. 


1.  "Will  you  walk  into  my  parlor'?"  said  the  Spider  to  the 

Fly; 
"  'Tis  the  prettiest  little  parlor  that  ever  you  did  spy^  ;* 
The  way  into  my  parlor  is  up  a  w^inding  stair ; 
And  I've  many  curious  things  to  show  when  you  are 

there\" 
"  Oh,  no,  no,"  said  the  little  Fly ;  "  to  ask  me  is  in  vain ; 
For  who  goes  up  your  winding  stair,  can  ne'er  come  down 

again." 

2.  "  I'm  sure  you  must  be  weary\  dear',  with  soaring^  up  so 

high'; 
Will  you  rest  upon  my  little  bed'  ?"  said  the  Spider  to 

the  Fly. 
"There  are  pretty  curtains  drawn  around^;   the  sheets 

are  fine  and  thin^ ; 
And  if  you  like  to  rest  a  while',  I'll  snugly  tuck  you  in\" 
"  Oh,  no,  no,"  said  the  little  Fly ;  "  for  I've  often  heard  it 

said. 
They  never,  never  wake  again,  who  sleep  upon  your  bed." 


THIRD  READER.  153 

3.  Said  the  cunning  Spider  to  the  Fly,  "  Dear  friend',  what 

can  I  do 
To  prove  the  warm  affection^  I've  always  felt  for  you^  ? 
I  have,  within  my  pantry,  good  store  of  all  that's  nice ; 
I'm  sure  you're  very  welcome — will  you  please  to  take  a 

slice'?" 
"  Oh,  no,  no,"  said  the  little  Fly ;  "  kind  sir,  that  can  not 

be: 
I've  heard  what's  in  your  pantry' ;  and  I  do  not  wish  to 

see!" 

4.  "  Sweet  creature',"  said  the  Spider,  "  you're  witty'  and 

you're  wise^ ; 
How  handsome  are  your  gauzy^  wings^ !  how  brilliant  are 

your  eyes^ ! 
I  have  a  little  looking-glass  upon  my  parlor  shelf; 
If  you'll  step  in  one  moment\  dear',  you  shall  behold^ 

yourself." 
"I  thank  you,  gentle   sir,"  she  said,  "for  what  you're 

pleased  to  say ; 
And  bidding  you  good-morning  now\  I'll  call  another 

day." 

6.  The  spider  turned  him  round  about,  and  went  into  his 

den; 
For  well  he  knew  the  silly  fly  would  soon  come  back 

again: 
So  he  wove  a  subtle®  web,  in  a  little  corner  sly, 
And  set  his  table  ready  to  dine  upon  the  fly. 

6.  Then  to  his  door  he  came  again,  and  merrily  did  sing, 

"  Come  hither,  hither,  pretty  Fly\  with  the  pearl  and  sil- 
ver wing^ ; 

Your  robes  are  green  and  purple^ ;  there's  a  crest  upon 
your  head^ ; 

Ydur"  eyes'  are  like  the  diamond  bright^ ;  but  mm^  are 
dull  as  lead^ !" 

7.  Alas !  alas^ !  how  very  soon  this  silly  little  fly, 
Hearing  his  wily,  flattering  words,  came  slowly  flitting 

byM 

G  2 


154 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


With  buzzing  wings  she  hung  aloft,  then  near  and  nearer 

drew, 
Thinking  only  of  her  brilliant  eyes,  and  green  and  purple 

hue — 
Thinking  only  of  her  crested  head — poor  foolish  thing^ ! 

At  last. 
Up  jumped  the  cunning  spider,  and  fiercely  held  her  fast! 
He  dragged  her  up  his  winding  stair^ ;  into  his  dismaF  den^ ; 
Within  his  little  parlor^ ;  but  she  ne'er  came  out  again ! 

8.  And  now,  dear  little  children',  who  may  this  story  read', 
To  idle,  silly,  flattering  words,  I  pray  you  ne'er  give  heed; 
Unto  an  evil  counselor,^  close  heart,  and  ear,  and  eye. 
And  take  a  lesson  from  this  tale  of  the  spider  and  the  fly. 

»  Spy,  see. 

*"  Soar'-ing,  flying  aloft. 

e  Af-feo'-tion,  love;  good --will. 

^  Gauz'-t,  like  gauze  ;  thin  as  gauze. 

[Lesson  LXVI.  This  fable  very  forcibly  depicts  the  well-known  cun- 
ning of  the  spider,  and  the  simplicity  of  the  silly  fly.  The  result  furnishes 
a  useful  moral.  Words  of  flattery  and  falsehood,  though  repelled  at  first, 
by  being  often  repeated  at  length  exert  their  baneful  influence  upon  the 
vain  and  weak-minded.  Thus,  in  the  first,  second,  and  third  verses,  the 
fly,  knowing  the  treachery  of  the  spider,  repels  all  his  blandishments ;  but, 
in  the  fourth  verse,  begins  to  yield,  and  promises  to  "call  another  day." 
The  artful  spider  then  felt  sure  of  his  victim ;  and  the  result  proved  that 
he  had  not  misjudged  the  effects  of  his  "flattering  words." 

Observe  the  circumflex  accent  on  "your,"  last  line  of  first  and  second 
verses;  and  on  "your,"  and  "mine,"  last  line  of  sixth  verse.] 


e  Stjbt'le  (sut'tl),  artful;  cunning. 

'  Dis'-MAL,  dark  ;  gloomy. 

s  Cottn'-sel-ok,  one  who  gives  advice. 


LESSON  LXYII 
Keep   to   the   Right. 

1.  "Keep  to  the  right\"  as  the  law  directs\* 

For  such  is  the  rule^  of  the  road^ : 
ITeep  to  the  right,  whoever  expects 
Securely  to  carry  life's  load. 

2.  Keep  to  the  right,  with  God  and  his  Word^ ; 

Nor  wander',*^  though  folly  allure^  :^ 
ITeep  to  the  right,  nor  ever  be  turned 

From  what's  faithful',  and  holy',  and  pure\ 


THIRD  READER.  155 

3.  Keep  to  the  right,  within  and  without\ 

With  stranger',  and  kindred',  and  friend^ : 
Keep  to  the  rights  and  you  need  have  no  doubt 
That  all  will  be  well  in  the  end. 

4.  Keep  to  the  right  in  whatever  you  do\ 

Nor  claim  but  your  own  on  the  way^  % 
Keep  to  the  rights  and  hold  on  to  the  true, 
Fi;om  the  morn  to  the  close  of  life's  day. 

■  Di-KEOTs',  orders;  commands.  I  •=  Wan'^dek,  go  astray.  , 

''  KULE,  law.  I   ''  Al-lfke',  attempt  to  lead  astray. 

[Lesson  LXVII.  It  is  a  well-known  law  of  the  road,  that  each  one 
shall  "keep  to  the  righV — that  is,  in  the  direction  of  his  right  hand — in 
passing  another.  The  same  phrase,  or  sentence,  is  here  appropriately 
used,  but  with  a  different  meaning,  to.  enforce  a  principle  of  God's  law — 
that  of  doing  what  is  morally  "right"  on  all  occasions.] 


LESSON  LXYIII. 
The  Gold  Sovereign. 

1.  "When  I  was  in  my  eightli  year"  said  Judge 

N ,  "  my  father  and  mother  being  poor,  with  a 

large  family  of  children  to  support,^  I  was  bound 
out  to  a  farmer  by  the  name  of  Webb,  in  whose 
service^  I  was  to  remain""  until  I  should  reach  the 
age  of  twenty-one  years. 

2.  "  I  can  not  say  that  I  had  a  very  easy  time  in 
Farmer  Webb's  service;  for  although  he  was  an 
honest  deacon,  and  a  kind  man  in  his  family,  he 
did  not  believe  in  allowing"^  boys  to  be  idle :  so  I 
had  plenty  of  work  to  do,  and  very  little  time  for 
play. 

3.  "  Money  was  not  very  plenty  in  those  days  ; 
and  I  had  lived  with  Deacon  Webb  three  years 
before  I  had  handled  any  coin  except  a  few  copper 


156  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

pennies.     By  tlie  following  accident  I  learned  the 
color  of  gold. 

4.  "  One  Saturday  night  Deacon  Webb  sent  me 
to  the  village  on  an  errand.  While  on  my  return, 
just  about  dusk,  I  noticed®  a  little  package  of 
brown  paper  lying  in  the  road.  I  picked  it  up, 
tore  open  the  folds,  and  finding  nothing,  was  on 
the  point  of  throwing  away  the  useless  paper,  when 
something  dropped  out,  and  fell  with  a  ringing 
sound  upon  a  stone. 

5.  "•  Stooping  down,  I  saw,  with  surprise,  what 
appeared  to  be  a  piece  of  money ;  but  it  was  such 
as  I  had  never  seen  before.  It  was  yellow,  round, 
too  bright  and  too  small  for  a  penny.  I  took  it 
up ;  I  turned  it  over ;  I  squeezed  it  in  my  fingers. 
Something  whispered  to  me  that  it  was  a  gold  coin 
of  great  value. 

6.  "Trembling  with  excitement,^  I  put  it  into 
my  pocket.  But  I  could  not  let  it  stay  there. 
Every  few  minutes  I  took  it  out  to  look  at  it ;  but 
when  I  met  any  one,  I  was  careful  to  put  it  out  of 
sight. 

"  Yet  I  felt  a  guilty  dread^  of  finding  its  owner. 
I  tried  to  persuade  myself,  if  I  found  no  owner, 
that  the  coin  was  honestly  mine  by  right  of  dis- 
covery ;  and  why  should  I  go  about  the  streets 
crying,  ^  Who  has  lost  a  piece  of  money^  V 

8.  "  On  reaching  home,  I  hurried  off  to  bed  as 
soon  as  possible.  I  would  not  have  any  one  know 
what  I  had  found  for  the  world.  I  was  troubled 
with  the  fear  of  losing  my  treasure.  But  this  was 
not  all.     It  seemed^  to  me  that  my  face  betrayed^ 


THIED  READER.  157 

tbe  secret.     I  could  not  look  at  any  body  witli  an 
honest  eye. 

9.  "These  troubles  kept  me  awake  half  the 
night.  On  the  following  morning  I  was  feverish 
and  nervous.  When  Deacon  Webb,  at  the  break- 
fast-table, said, '  William !'  I  started,  and  trembled, 
thinking  the  next  words  would  be, '  Where  is  that 
piece  of  gold  you  found,  and  wickedly  concealed  to 
keep  it  from  the  rightful  owner  V  But  he  only  said, 
'  I  want  you  to  go  to  Job  Baldwin's  this  morning, 
and  ask  him  if  he  can  come  and  work  for  me  to-day 
and  to-morrow.' 

10.  "  I  felt  relieved.^  I  left  the  house,  and  was 
soon  out  of  sight.  Then  once  more  I  took  the  coin 
out  of  my  pocket,  and  feas^ted  on  its  beauty.  Yet 
I  was  unhappy.  My  conscience  troubled  me,  and 
I  almost  wished  I  had  not  found  the  money. 
*  Would  I  not  be  called  a  thief  if  discovered  V  I 
asked  myself  ^  Was  it  not  as  wrong  to  conceal 
what  I  had  found,  as  to  take  the  same  amount  from 
the  owner's  pocket  V 

11.  "^But,'  I  said  to  myself,  4f  I  do  not  know 
who  the  loser  is,  how  can  I  give  him  back  his 
money^?  It  is  only  because  I  am  afraid  Deacon 
Webb  will  take  it  from  me  that  I  conceal  it ;  that 
is  all.  I  certainly  would  not  steal  it ;  and  if  the 
owner  should  ask  me  for  it,  I  would  give  it  to 
him.' 

12.  "  Thus  I  reasoned  with  myself  all  the  way  to 
Mr.  Baldwin's ;  but,  after  all,  it  would  not  do.  I 
could  not  satisfy  myself  that  I  had  done  right ; 
and  the  more  I  thought  of  it,  the  worse  I  felt.    The 


168 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


gold  in  my  pocket  was  like  a  mill-stone  around  my 
neck." 


»  Sup-poet',  maintain ;  take  care  of. 

•^  Skkv'-iob,  employment. 

«  Re-main',  continue. 

•*  Al-low'-ing,  permitting. 

•  No'-TioED,  observed. 


f  Ex-oite'-ment,  agitation. 

8  Deead,  apprehension  ;  fear. 

i»  Seem'ed,  appeared. 

'  Be-teay'ed,  made  known. 

J  Re-liev'ed,  freed  from  apprehension. 


LESSON  LXIX. 
The  Gold  Sovereign — Continued. 

1.  "  Mr.  Baldwin  was  not  at  home,  and  I  returned* 
to  the  deacon's  house.  I  saw  Mr.Wardly's  horse 
standing  at  the  gate,  and  I  was  terribly^  frightened. 
Mr.  Wardly  was  a  constable,  and  I  thought  he  had 
come  to  take  me  to  jail;  so  I  hid  in  the  garden 
until  he  went  away.     Then  I  went  into  the  house. 

2.  "Deacon  Webb  looked  angry  at  me.  Now, 
thought  I,  he  is  going  to  accuse''  me  of  finding  the 
gold.  But  he  only  scolded  me  for  being  gone  so 
long.  I  never  before  received  a  reprimand^  so  will- 
ingly. His  severe  words  sounded  sweet  to  me — ^I 
had  expected  something  so  much  more  terrible. 

3.  "  I  worked  all  day  with  the  treasure  in  my 
pocket ;  but  I  stopped  so  often  to  see  if  it  was  real- 
ly there,  that  I  wonder  Deacon  Webb  did  not  sus- 
pect'' something  ^vrong.  The  possession  of  the  gold 
troubled  me ;  but  the  fear  of  losing  it  troubled  me 
still  more. 

4.  "I  was  not  happy.  I  was  miserable.^  I 
wished,  a  hundred  times,  I  had  not  found  the  gold. 
I  felt  it  would  be  a  relief  to  get  rid  of  it ;  and  once 
I  wrapped  it  in  brown  paper,  just  as  I  had  found 
it,  but  I  had  not  the  courage  to  throw  it  away. 


THIRD  READER.  15^1 

I  wondered  if  ill-gotten  wealth  made  every  body 
so  miserable. 

5.  "At  night  I  was  sent  again  to  Mr.  Baldwin's, 
when  I  obtained^  his  promise  to  work  for  Deacon 
Webb  on  the  following  day.  It  was  already  dark 
when  I  started  for  home,  and  I  was  afraid  of  rob- 
bers. I  never  before  felt  so  cowardly.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  any  body  could  rob  me  with  a  clear 
conscience,  because  the  gold  was  not  mine.  I 
reached  home  with  trembling,  and  went  trembling 
to  bed. 

6.  "  The  next  morning  Mr.  Baldwin  came  early, 
and  took  breakfast  with  us.  He  was  an  honest, 
poor  man,  who  supported^  a  large  family  by  hard 
labor.  Every  body  liked  him,  he  was  so  industri- 
ous and  faithful ;  and,  besides  making  good  wages, 
he  often  received  presents  of  meal  and  flour  from 
those  who  employed'  him. 

7.  "At  the  breakfast-table  something  was  said 
about  the  ^news.'  ^I  suppose  you  have  heard 
about  my  misfortune,'-'  said  Mr.  Baldwin.  '  Your 
misfortune^  ?  Why,  what  has  happened  to  you^  V 
asked  the  deacon. 

8.  "  ^  I  thought  every  body  had  heard  of  it,'  re- 
plied Mr.  Baldwin.  ^  The  other  night,  when  Mr. 
Wardly  paid  me  for  my  work,  he  gave  me  a  gold 
piece — a  sovereign.'^ 

9.  "I  started,  and  felt  the  blood  forsake  my 
cheeks ;  but  as  all  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Mr.  Bald- 
win, my  confusion  was  not  observed.^ 

10.  "  Mr.  Baldwin  continued :  '  I  thought,  if  I 
should  put  the  money  loose  into  my  pocket,  like  a 


160  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

penny,  I  might  lose  it.  So  I  wrapped  it  in  a  piece 
of  paper,  and  put  it  into  my  coat  pocket,  where  I 
thought  it  would  be  safe.  I  never  did  a  more  fool-  * 
ish  thing.  I  must  have  lost  the  coin  on  taking  out 
my  handkerchief;  and  the  paper  would  prevent  its 
making  a  noise  as  it  fell. 

11.  "^When  I  reached  home  I  discovered  my 
loss,  and  went  back  to  look  for  the  money ;  but 
somebody  must  have  picked  it  up.' 

"  ^  Who  could  be  so  dishonest  as  to  keep  it  V 
asked  the  deacon. 

"  I  felt  as  if  I  should  sink  through  the  floor. 

12.  "  ^I  don't  know,'  said  Mr. Baldwin,  shaking 
his  head  sadly.  ^I  hope  his  conscience  won't 
trouble  him  more  than  the  money  is  worth;  though 
I  know  this — I  sadly  miss  my  earnings.' 

13.  "  This  was  too  much  for  me.  The  allusion"^ 
to  my  conscience  brought  the  gold  out  of  my  pock- 
et. I  resolved""  to  throw  off  the  weight  of  guilt 
which  oppressed  me,  and  be  honest,  in  spite  of  pov- 
erty and  shame.  So  I  held  the  gold  in  my  trem- 
bling hand,  and  said, '  Is  this  yours,  Mr.  Baldwin  V 

14.  "  My  voice  was  so  faint  that  he  did  not  hear 
me.  So  I  repeated  the  question  in  a  louder  tone. 
AH  eyes  were  at  once  turned  upon  me,  and  the 
deacon  demanded  when  and  where  I  had  found  the 
money. 

15.  "I  burst  into  tears,  and  confessed  every  thing. 
I  had  expected  the  deacon  would  punish  me  severe- 
ly ;  but  he  patted  my  head,  and  said  kindly,  ^  Don't 
cry  about  it,  William.  You  are  an  honest  lad, 
though  you  have  had  a  narrow  escape.     Always 


THIRD  READER. 


161 


be  honest,  my  boy ;  and  if  you  do  not  become  rieli, 
you  will  be  happy  in  having  a  clear  conscience.' 

16.  ^^  I  cried,  but  it  was  for  joy.  I  laughed  too, 
I  was  so  happy  for  having  overcome  the  tempta- 
tion, and  driven  the  tempter  from  me.  Of  what  a 
load  was  I  relieved !  I  felt,  then,  that  honesty  is 
the  best  policy. 

17.  "As  for  Baldwin, he  declared  that  I  should 
have  half  the  money  for  finding  it ;  but  I  wished 
to  keep  clear  of  the  troublesome  stuff  for  a  time, 
and  I  did.  I  would  not  accept  the  gold ;  and  I 
never  regretted  it. 

18.  "I  was  the  deacon's  favorite  after  this.  He 
was  very  kind  to  me,  and  trusted  me  in  every  thing. 
I  was  careful  not  to  deceive  him.  I  preserved  the 
strictest  candor  and  truthfulness  in  all  things,  and 
that  has  made  me  what  I  am. 

19.  "  When  the  deacon  died,  he  willed  me  five 
hundred  dollars,  with  which  I  came  here  and  bought 
new  lands,  which  are  now  worth  a  great  many  sov- 
ereigns. But  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  my  story. 
That  is  told ;  and  all  I  have  to  add  is,  I  have  never 
regretted  clearing  my  conscience  of  poor  Job  Bald- 
win's sovereign." 


^  Em-ploy'kd,  hired. 

J  Mis-foet'-une,  ill  fortune ;  calamity. 

"  S6v'-EB-EiGN,   an  English   coin,  of  the 

value  of  $4.84 ;  a  pound  sterling. 
•  Ob-serv'ed,  noticed. 
™  Al-lu'-sion,  reference, 
"  Re-»olv'ed,  determined. 


«  Re-turn 'et>,  went  back. 

^  Tee'-ri-bly,  very  much. 

e  Ac-cusiE',  charge  with. 

•*  Rep'-ei-mand,  reproof. 

*  Sus-pect',  mistrust. 

^  Mis'-ee-a-ble,  wretched. 

e  Ob-tain'ei>,  received. 

*^  Scp-port'-ed,  maintained ;  subsisted. 

[Lessons  LXVHI.  and  LXIX.  This  story  of  Temptation  is  a  practi- 
cal illustration  of  the  importance  of  adhering  to  the  principle  set  forth  in 
Lesson  LXVIL — that  of  "keeping  to  the  right"  in  all  matters  of  moral 
conduct.  Although  the  lad  who  found  the  money  tried  hard  to  persuade 
himself  that  it  was  right  to  keep  the  secret  to  himself,  and  that  the  coin 


162  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES,  v 

was  honestly  his,  yet  conscience  told  him  he  was  doing  wrong ;  and  he  was 
in  a  very  unhappy  state  of  mind  until  he  restored  the  lost  treasure  to  its 
rightful  owner.  The  happiness  he  then  felt  was  worth  more  to  him  than 
any  amount  of  money  obtained  dishonestly.] 


LESSON  LXX. 
'  Praise  the  Lord. 

1.  O  Lord,  open  thou  my  lips,  and  my  mouth, 
shall  show  forth  thy  praise. 

2.  I  will  praise  thee,  O  Lord,  with  my  whole 
heart.  I  will  be  glad,  and  rejoice  in  thee.  I  will 
sing  praises  to  thy  name,  O  thou  most  High. 

3.  I  will  bless  the  Lord  at  all  times ;  his  praise 
shall  continually''  be  in  my  mouth.  I  will  sing 
praises  unto  his  name  forevermore. 

4.  O  praise  the  Lord,  all  ye  nations ;  praise  him, 
all  ye  people.  For  his  merciful  kindness^  is  great 
toward  us ;  and  the  truth  of  the  Lord  endureth'' 
forever.     Praise  ye  the  Lord. 

5.  One  generation^  shall  praise  thy  works  to 
another,  and  shall  declare  thy  mighty  acts. 

6.  All  thy  works  shall  praise  thee,  O  Lord ;  and 
thy  saints  shall  bless  thee. 

7.  Sing  praises  to  God,  sing  praises ;  sing  praises 
unto  our  King.  For  God  is  the  King  of  all  the 
earth.     Sing,  ye,  praises  unto  him. 

8.  Make  a  joyful  noise  unto  God,  all  ye  lands  ; 
all  the  earth  shall  worship  thee,  and  shall  sing  to 
thy  name. 

9.  Let  the  people  praise  thee,  O  God;  let  all 
the  people  praise  thee. 

10.  It  is  a  good  thing  to  give  thanks  unto  the 


THIRD  READER.  168 

Lord,  and  to  sing  praises  unto  tliy  name,  O  most 
High. 

11.  O  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord,  for  he  is  good ; 
for  his  mercy  endureth*"  forever. 

12.  O  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his 
goodness,  and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the  chil- 
dren of  men. 

13.  From  the  rising  of  the  sun  unto  the  going 
down  of  the  same,  the  Lord's  name  is  to  be 
praised. 

14.  Let  every  thing  that  hath  breath  praise  the 
Lord. 

■  Con-tin'-tt-al-ly,  constantly.  |   «  En-dur'eth,  lasteth ;  continueth. 

•»  Kind'-ness,  goodness.  |   <*  Gen-ee-a'-tion,  the  people  of  one  period. 

[Lesson  LXX.,  consisting  of  verses  selected  from  the  Psalms,  is  both  an 
address  to  the  Lord,  and  an  exhortation  to  praise  him.  The  character  of 
the  piece  requires,  for  its  appropriate  reading,  such  solemnity  of  tone,  and 
reverence  of  manner,  as  one  should /ee/ in  addressing  Deity.] 


The  Bible. 

Behold  the  book  whose  leaves  display 

The  truth',  the  life',  the  way\ 

The  mines  of  earth  no  treasure  give 

That  could  this  volume  buy^ : 
In  teaching  me  the  way  to  live', 

It  teaches  how  to  die\ 


Mind  makes  the  Man.  *  (/ 


There  is  a  simple  little  truth — 
Dispute  it,  ye  who  can — 

'Tis  not  old  age,  or  lively  youth. 
But  Mind  that  makes  the  man. 


164 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  LXXL 
Cateepillaes  and  Butteeflies. 


Caterpillars,  Chrysalids,  Moths,  and  Butterflies, 

1.  "  How  many  caterpillars  there  are  this  sum- 
merM"  said  "Willie.  "What  disagreeable,^  ^gty- 
looking  things  they  are,  too^ !    They  were  not  here 


THIRD  READER.  165 

last  montli;  but  now  they  are  all  over  the  trees, 
and  on  the  ground,  almost  as  thick  as  flies.  Where 
did  they  all  come  from\  Uncle  John^  V 

"  They  came  from  little  eggs  that  were  laid  by 
the  butterflies,"  said  Uncle  John. 

2.  "The  butterfliesM"  Do  butterflies  lay  eggs 
that  hatch  out  such  ugly-looking  worms  as  these 
caterpillars  are^  ?  How  very  strange  that  is^ !  But 
I  have  not  seen  any  butterflies  since  last  summer," 
said  Willie. 

3.  "That  is  very  true;  but  the  butterflies  laid 
the  eggs  last  autumn ;  and  now,  when  the  spring 
comes  on,  the  warm  weather  makes  them  hatch 
out." 

"  But  what  becomes  of  all  the  caterpillars  every 
year^?  Do  they  lay  eggs  which  hatch  out  other 
caterpillars^?' 

4.  "Not  at  all.  Many  are  killed  in  various 
ways ;  but  great  numbers  of  them  change  into  the 
beautiful  butterflies  which  you  and  Mary  admire 
so  much." 

.  5.  "That  is  very  curious,"  said  Willie.  "It  must 
be  very  funny  for  a  worm,  that  has  only  crept  on 
the  ground,  to  have  wings  given  to  it,  so  that  it 
can  fly  up  into  the  air.  But,  Uncle  John^,  did  you 
ever  see  a  caterpillar  change  into  a  butterfly^  V 

6.  "I  have  often  seen  it  while  it  was  clmnging^'' 
said  Uncle  John ;  "  but  it  does  not  change  instant- 
ly. The  caterpillar,  after  hiding  itself  away  in 
some  quiet  place,  first  throws  off  its  hairy  covering, 
or  skin ;  then  it  is  called  a  chrys^-q-lis^  or  chrys^-a- 
lid ;  and  in  this  condition  it  remains,  with  little  or 


166  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

no  motion,  sometimes  only  a  few  days,  and  at  otter 
times  weeks  or  months,  when  it  finally  comes  out 
a  butterfly,  with  wings.  A  great  many  of  the  fly- 
ing insects  pass  through  just  such  changes— having 
been  worms,  or  grubs,  before  they  were  able  to 
fly." 

7.  "  Do  you  mean  to  say,  Uncle  John',  that  all 
the  flying  insects — such  as  be^etles',  and  flies',  and 
musquitoes',  and  grasshoppers',  and  crickets',  and 
bees',  and  wasps',''  and  moths',''  were  first  worms 
without  wings'  V 

8.  "All  that  you  have  named,  except  crickets 
and  grasshoppers,"  said  Uncle  John.  "All  the  bee- 
tles\  all  the  thousand  kinds  of  flies,  and  the  mus- 
quitoes^ ;  and  all,  the  bees,  and  wasps,  and  the  but- 
terflies, and  the  moths,  pass  through  these  wonder- 
ful changes." 

9.  "  How  I  should  like  to  see  what  you  call  a 
chry^-Orlis'^  Uncle  John',  change  into  a  hiiUerfly^P'^ 
said  "Willie. 

"  If  it  were  in  the  spring  of  the  year,"  said  Uncle 
John,  "  we  could  easily  find  a  chrys'-a-lis ;  and  then 
you  might  watch  it,  and  see  this  wonderful  change: 
but  now,  all  that  could  have  been  found  last  spring 
have  already  changed  into  butterflies." 

10.  The  summer  passed  away,  and  the  winter 
also ;  and  when  spring  came  again,  Willie  had  not 
forgotten  what  had  been  told  him  about  the  cater- 
pillars and  the  butterflies ;,  and  one  day  he  asked 
Uncle  John  if  he  thought  he  could  find  a  chrys'-a- 
lis  for  him. 

11.  Uncle  John  thought  he  could:  and  after  he 


THIRD  READER. 


167 


Two  Specimens  of 
the  Chrysalis. 


and  Willie  had  searched  a  while,  they  found  sev- 
eral   specimens    of  a   beautiful    egg- 
shaped  chrys'-a-lis,  of  a  bright  green 
color,  each  having  on  it  rows  of  gold- 
en spots.     One  was  hanging,  by  little 
silken  threads,  from  the  underside  of 
a  fence-board,  and  others  were  found 
on  the  stalks  of  some  coarse  grasses. 
12,  They  also  found  one,  of  a  different  kind,  firm- 
ly fastened  to  the  stalk  of  a  currant- 
bush,  and  wrapped  up  in  a  kind  of 
coarse   but   very  firm    silken  bag 
called  a  co-coon^  which  was  almost 
as  large  as  a  man's  thumb.     Here 
is  a  picture  of  the  co-coon^. 

13.  These  were  brought  into  the 
house,  and  put  in  a  warm  place  near 
a  window  in  the  garret;  and  from 
day  to  day  Willie  watched  for  the 
butterflies  that  Uncle  John  told  him  would  come 
out  of  them.  And,  sure  enough^ !  in  a  few  days, 
out  of  the  little  green  chrys--a-lis  there  came  a  but- 
terfly with  dark -red  wings;  and  the  wings  had 
black  veins,  and  a  black  border  with  a  row  of 

white  spots. 

14.  Willie  was  so  de- 
lighted with  his  butterfly, 
that  he  ran  and  called  Un- 
cle John  and  Aunt  Mary 
to  come  and  see  it.  Uncle 
John  told  Willie  that  this 
kind  of  butterfly  was  long  ago  named  Berenice^ 


Cocooa  of  the  Cecropia 
Moth. 


The  Berenice  Butterfly. 


168  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

after  a  queen  of  Syria,  who  was  celebrated  for  her 
great  beauty. 

15.  Early  the  next  morning  Willie  went  to  ex- 
amine his  large  co-coon^,  when,  lo !  he  found  it  was 
empty !  There  was  a  hole  ifi  the  lower  end  of  it. 
On  looking  up  over  the  window,  there  was  his  but- 
terfly, as  he  called  it.  And  a  large  and  beautiful 
one  it  was,  too. 

16.  Its  four  wings,  which 
it  could  spread  out  five  or 
six  inches,  were  of  a  dusky- 
brown  color,  with  a  red- 
dish-white band  for  a  bord- 
cecropia  Moth.  ^p^  ^j^^  ^ j^j^  ^  large  rcddlsh 

spot  near  the  middle  of  each  wing.  Uncle  John 
told  him  that  this  insect  was  not  a  butterfly,  but 
one  of  the  flight  moths,  called  the  Ce-czo^-pi-a  Moth. 
17.  "And  now,  Willie,"  said  Uncle  John,  "you 
must  remember  that  this  beautiful  butterfly,  and 
this  beautiful  moth,  with  their  beautiful  colored 
wings,  were  once  worms — caterpillars — that  crept 
on  the  ground !  Long  ago  a  poet  wrote  about  the 
butterfly — 

" '  Yet  wert  thou  once  a  worm,  a  thing  that 
crept 
On  the  bare  earth,  then  wrought^  a  tomb, 
and  slept.' 

18.  "Yes,  the  caterpillar  made  for 
himself  a  tomb,  where  he  slept  through 
the  winter;  but  in  the  spring  he  awoke 

TheCaterpmarfrom  tO  a   UCW  kiud  of  lifc  !        If  SOmC  littlC 

5?uf  c^rp'i^^^^^     fairy  had  changed  the  worm  into  a 


THIED  READER.  169 

butterfly,  don't  you  think  it  would  have  been  won- 
derfur  r 

19.  Willie  thought  this  true  story  of  the  eater- 
pillar  and  the  butterfly  quite  as  wonderful  as  the 
story  of  Cinderella  and  the  Glass  Slipper.  After 
this  he  amused  himself  in  finding  other  specimens 
of  the  chrys-a-lis,  and  other  co-coons,  which  he  hung 
up  in  the  warm  garret  of  the  house,  by  the  win- 
dow; and  soon  he  had  butterflies  and  moths  in 
abundance.  Some  were  yellow;  some  were  red 
and  orange ;  some  were  green,  with  wings  of 
bronze  and  gold  —  perfect  little  fairies;  a  few 
were  blue ;  some  were  brown ;  some  were  black ; 
and  some  of  the  moths  were  white. 

20.  Uncle  John  told  him  their  names,  and  de- 
scribed their  habits;  and  before  the  summer  was 
over  Willie  could  tell  what  kinds  of  butterflies 
most  of  the  caterpillars  that  he  saw  would  change 
into ;  and  when,  in  the  autumn,  he  found  a  chrys^- 
a-lis,  or  a  co-coon^,  he  learned  from  Uncle  John  what 
kind  of  a  butterfly,  or  moth,  would  come  from  it. 

21.  So  fond  of  the  study  of  these  insects  did 
Willie  become,  that  even  the  crawling  caterpillar 
was  no  longer  disagreeable  and  ugly-looking  to 
him.  "  Little  worm,"  said  he,  "  one  day  you  will 
lay  aside  your  old  cloak  of  a  garment,  and  put  on 
a  robe  of  scarlet  and  green,  with  a  golden  border ; 
and  then,  flying  about  the  garden  and  the  fields, 
and  sucking  honey  from  the  flowers,  how  happy 
you  will  be !" 

22.  ^^And  one  day,"  said  Uncle  John,  ^'we  shall 
lay  aside  these  fraiF  bodies  of  ours,  like  worn-out 

II 


170  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

garments ;  but  our  spirits  will  rise  fi'om  the  earth, 
as  on  wings ;  and  if  we  have  been  good  here,  we 
shall  soar  away  to  a  beautiful  country  beyond  the 
skies,  where  we  shall  be  forever  happy." 

■  Dis-a-geee'-a-ble,  unpleasant  to  look  at. 
^  €nBYs'-A-Li8,  pronounced  kris'-a-lis. 
'  €o-€OOn',  pronounced  ko-koon'. 


<>  Bee'-e-nice,  pronounced  Ber'-e-nls. 
^  Wrought,  made ;  fonned. 
''  Fkail,  weak ;  liable  to  decay. 


10  See  Note  to  Rule  X. 
[Lesson  LXXI.  The  general  subject  of  this  lesson,  which  is  treated  in 
a  familiar,  conversational  style,  is  the  metamorphoses  of  insects.  The  abund- 
ance of  caterpillars  in  the  early  summer  suggests  the  inquiry,  "  Where  did 
they  come  from  ?"  It  is  found  that  they  come  from  eggs  laid  by  butter- 
flies. When  the  caterpillar  is  fully  grown,  it  throws  off  its  hairy  covering, 
and  changes  to  a  chrysalis,  or  grub-like  insect,  which  has  little  or  no  ap- 
pearance of  life ;  and  the  chrysalis,  after  a  little  time,  changes  into  a  but- 
terfly ;  and  thus,  from  year  to  year,  this  continued  round  of  change  goes 
on.  Most  other  insects  pass  through  similar  changes.  Chrysalids,  cocoon, 
butterfly,  and  moth.  A  pleasant  study  for  children.  Willie's  address  to 
the  caterpillar.  The  moral  of  the  lesson,  as  contained  in  Uncle  John's  re- 
marks.] 


LESSON  LXXII. 
The  Worm  and  the  Butteefly. 

1.  When  first  their  leaves  of  tender  green 

The  budding  trees  display,* 
The  caterpillar  tribe  is  seen, 

Like  them,  in  green  array  :^ 
Crawling  on  their  little  feet, 
All  day  long  they  crawl  and  eat. 

2.  Come  again ;  their  meal  is  done ! 

They've  gained  their  proper^  size, 
And  each  a  slender  web  has  spun, 

In  which  he  sleeping  lies. 
Feeling  neither  joy  nor  pain : 
Will  he  ever  move  again  ? 

3.  Come  once  more :  the  case  is  torn, 

The  sleeper  soared^  on  high ; 
Through  air  on  downy  wings  upborne,® 
Behold  the  butterfly ! 


THIRD  READEU.  171 

No  more  he  makes  the  leaves  his  prey/ 
But  gaily  flutters  all  the  dav. 


*  Dis-plat',  show  ;  exhibit, 
i"  Ar-ray',  dress.' 
«=  PiiOP'-EK,  naturaL 


^  Soared,  has  soared  ;  has  mounted  up. 
*=  Lp-borne',  lifted  up. 
'  Prey,  food. 


[Lesson  LXXII.  is  a  poetical  description  of  the  changes  from  the  cater- 
pillar to  the  butterfly  state.  In  the  first  verse,  the  appearance  and  habits 
of  the  caterpillar  in  spring  are  described.  In  the  second  verse,  the  insect 
is  described  as  spinning  its  cocoon,  or  silken  case,  in  which  it  sleeps  until 
the  time  comes  for  it  to  burst  forth — a  butterfly !  In  the  third  verse,  the 
insect  is  described  as  having  changed  to  the  butterfly  state.  It  has  now  no 
mouth,  and  can  no  longer  injure  vegetation ;  but,  with  its  long  tube-like 
tongue,  it  feeds  upon  the  juices  of  plants  and  flowers.] 


LESSON  LXXIII. 
The  Humming -bird  and  the  Butteefly. — A  Fable, 

1.  One  day  a  hummiiig-bird,  for  the  first  time, 
met  a  butterfly;  and,  being  pleased  with  the  hand- 
some form  of  the  stranger,  and  the  beautiful  colors 
of  her  wings,  made  an  oflfer  of  perpetual""  friendship. 

2.  "I  can  not  think  of  such  a  thing,"  was  the 
reply;  "for  you  once  spurned^  me,  and  called  me 
a  stupid  ivorm^  fit  only  to  be  trodden  upon." 

3.  "Surely,  that  is  impossiUe^^  exclaimed  the 
humming-bird,  in  real  surprise, "  for  I  always  had 
the  highest  respect  for  such  beautiful  creatures  as 
you  are." 

4.  "Perhaps  you  do  now,"  said  the  other;  "but 
when  you  insulted  me  I  was  a  caterpillar.  So  let 
me  give  you  a  piece  of  advice :  never  insult  the 
humble,  as  they  may  some  day  become  your  supe- 


nors." 


"  rEE-PET'-ir-AL,  lasting ;  continual.       |       •>  Spuen'ed,  treated  with  contempt. 

[Lesson  LXXIII.     The  fable  of  the  humming-bird  and  the  butterfly  is 
designed  to  illustrate  a  useful  moral,  having  many  applications  in  real  life.] 


172  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

*  LESSON  LXXIY. 
Dare  and  Do. 

1.  Dare  to  think,  though  others  frowh^ ; 

Dare  in  words  your  thoughts  express^ ; 
Dare  to  rise,  though  oft  cast  down^ ; 
Dare  the  wronged  and  scorned  to  bless\ 

2.  Dare  from  custom  to  depart^ ; 

Dare  the  priceless  pearl  possess^ ; 
Dare  to  wear  it  next  your  heart^ ; 
Dare\  when  others  curse',  to  bless\ 

3.  Dare  forsake  what  you  deem  wrong^ ; 

Dare  to  walk  in  wisdom's  way^ ; 
Dare  to  give  where  gifts  belong^ ; 
Dare  God's  precepts  to  obey\ 

4.  Do  what  conscience  says  is  right^ ; 

Do  what  reason  says  is  best^ ; 
Do  with  all  your  mind  and  might^ ; 
Do  your  duty^  and  be  blest\ 

[Lesson  LXXIV.  This  is  an  exhortation  to  independence  and  bold- 
ness of  character — to  dare  and  do  what  is  right  on  all  occasions.  For  the 
falling  inflection  at  the  close  of  each  line,  see  Rules  IV.  and  VIII.] 


A  Noble  Boy. 

1.  A  few  years  ago  a  steam-boat  sank  in  the 
Missouri  Eiver,  near  St.  Louis.  Among  the  per- 
sons who  were  swept  overboard  were  a  woman, 
and  a  boy  about  twelve  years  of  age. 

2.  A  man  on  a  steamer  near  by,  seeing  the  boy 
struggling  with  the  waves,  threw  him  a  rope,  and 
called  to  him  to  take  hold  of  it.  The  little  fellow 
replied,  "  Never  mind  me,  I  can  swim ;  save  my 
mother."     They  were  both  saved. 


THIRD  READER. 


173 


LESSON  LXXY. 
Bees  and  their  Dwellings 


>^^^ 


Hive  of  Bees. 

1.  A  very  curious  and  beautiful  palace  is  the 
home  of  the  Honey-bee.  If  you  could  look  into 
this  bee-hive,  you  might  see  a  long  line  of  dwell- 
ings, called  cells,  framed""  with  the  nicest  care,  row 
above  row !  These  cells  are  built  of  white  wax ; 
they  are  neatly  varnished  with  gum,  and  filled  with 
provisions  for  the  winter ! 

2.  The  home  of  the  honey-bees  is  built  upon  a 
regular  plan ;  and  there  are  paths  among  the  cells, 
just  wide  enough  for  two  bees  to  meet  and  pass 
each  other.  You  might  think  the  busy  workers 
were  always  bustling  about  in  the  greatest  confu- 
sion ;  yet  each  knows  her  own  business,  and  her 
own  proper  place.  Every  thing  is  done  in  the 
strictest^  order. 

3.  But  who  are  the  inhabitants  of  this  palace — 
or  rather,  we  might  say,  of  this  populous''  city  ?  for 


174  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

it  contains  from  ten  thousand  to  thirty  thousand 
living  beings ! 

4.  First,  there  is  a  large  number  ofWorhmg-hees, 
They  are  the  laborers,  who  do  all  the  work.  They 
go  forth  early  every  fair  morning  in  summer,  to  fill 
their  bottles  with  honey,*  and  their  baskets  with 
pollen.f  They  build  the  cells:  they  gather  the 
wax  and  the  honey;  and  they  take  care  of  the 
young.  These  workers  are  very  good  judges  of 
the  weather,  for  they  are  seldom  caught  in  a  show- 
er, and  they  take  care  to  stay  at  home  when  there 
is  thunder. 


Worker. 


5.  Then  there  is  a  set  of  Drones  in  every  hive — 
lazy  fellows,  who  gather  no  honey.  About  the 
middle  of  summer  the  working -bees  sting  the 
drones  to  death,  and  then  drag  their  dead  bodies 
out  of  the  hive.     The  drones  have  no  stings. 

*  Bees  swallow  the  honey  which  they  find  in  flowers,  carry  it  to  the 
hive,  and  then  empty  it  from  their  mouths  into  the  cells. 

t  Bees  have,  on  their  hind  legs,  little  basket-like  cavities,  in  which  they 
gather  the  pollen,  or  dust  of  flowers. 


THIRD  READER.  175 

6.  Every  swarm  of  bees  has  a  Qiieen^  who  does 
no  work,  but  who  is  treated*^  with  the  greatest  re- 
spect by  the  rest  of  the  hive.  She  is  larger  than 
the  other  bees.  She  moves  in  a  slow  and  majestic^ 
manner,  and  is  attended  by  a  guard  of  workers. 
She  lays  all  the  eggs,  to  the  number  of  many  thou- 
sands, and  is  the  mother  of  the  whole  hive. 

7.  Two  working-bees,  of  the  same  hive,  may 
sometimes  be  seen  fighting,  when  each  throws  her- 
self upon  the  other  with  great  fur}^  They  fall  to 
the  ground,  and  wrestle  together,  each  trying  to 
thrust  its  sting  between  two  ringlets^  of  the  body 
of  its  rival.  If  one  is  thus  stung,  it  soon  dies :  but 
if  the  victor  loses  her  sting  in  the  contest,  she,  also, 
soon  perishes. 

8.  Such  a  battle  is  sometimes  ended  in  a  few 
minutes :  sometimes  it  continues  for  hours,  before 
either  can  give  the  fatal  blow.  The  bees  of  differ- 
ent hives  often  wage  deadly  war  upon  one  another; 
and  in  one  of  their  murderous  battles  they  often 
"  pile  the  ground  with  thousands  slain,"  so  that  a 
whole  swarm  is  thus  sometimes  destroyed. 

9.  There  are  many  kinds  of  bees,  besides  the 
honey-bee.  There  are  the  Humhle-hees — or,  as  they 
are  often  called,  the  Biimhle-hees^  which  are  very 
much  like  the  honey-bees  in  their  habits. 

10.  There  are  also  the  curious  Carder-hees^  who 
dig,  for  their  home,  a  hole  in  the  ground,  which 
they  cover  with  a  dome°  of  moss.  This  moss  they 
card  into  small  bundles,  before  they  carry  it  to  their 
dwelling.  They  sometimes  line  the  ceiling^  of  their 
house  with  wax,  to  keep  out  the  rain. 


176 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


11.  There  are  some  bees  that  are  real  robbers. 
These  are  called  Cuckoo -hees^  because,  like  the 
cuckoo,  they  make  no  nests  of  their  own,  but  lay 
their  eggs  in  the  cells  of  their  more  industrious 
neighbors. 

1 2.  Other  kinds  of  bees  are  the  Mason-heeSj  which 
build  their  dwellings  of  sand  and  cement,  the  Car- 
pe7iter-heeSj  and  the  Mining-bees.  The  latter  bore 
holes  in  sunny  banks,  to  the  depth  of  six  or  eight 
inches,  where  they  form  a  smooth  chamber,  and 
there  lay  their  eggs,  placing  near  by  a  ball  of  pol- 
len for  the  young  to  feed  upon> 


^  Fkam'et>,  formed;  made. 
^  Strict'-est,  most  complete. 
'  Pop'-u-Lous,  full  of  people. 
•*  Teeat'-f,t),  waited  upon. 
*  Ma-je8'-tI(J,  noble;  dignified. 


^  PvIng'-let,  a  small  ring.  The  hind  body 
of  the  bee  consists  of  six  scaly  ringlets. 

5  Dome,  an  arched  roof. 

^  Ceii/-ing  {seel'-mg\  the  covering  of  the 
inner  roof,  or  top  of  a  room. 


[Lessqn  LXXV.  is  a  brief  description  of  the  dwellings  and  the  habits 
of  some  of  the  families  of  the  bees.  The  honey-bee  ;  its  cells ;  their  ar- 
rangement; number  of  bees  in  a  hive  ;  working-bees;  drones;  and  queen. 
Battles  of  the  honey-bees.  Humble-bees,  carder-bees ;  cuckoo-bees ;  ma- 
son-bees; carpenter-bees;  mining-bees.] 


LESSON  LXXYI. 

HONETBALL   AND  YlOLETTA  ;    OR,  ThE   HiVE-BEE   AND   THE 

Caepentee-bee. 

1.  Honeyball  was  a  good-natured,  easy  kind  of 
creature,  who  belonged  to  the  city  of  the  Honey- 
bees. She  was  very  ready  to  do  a  kindness  if  it 
cost  her  but  little  trouble ;  but  she  was  as  lazy  as 
any  drone  in  the  hive. 

2.  Honeyball  would  have  liked  to  live  all  day 
in  the  bell  of  a  foxglove,  with  nothing  to  disturb* 
her  in  her  idle  feast.     It  was  said,  in  the  hive,  that 


THIRD  READER.  177 

more  than  once  she  had  been  known  to  sip  so 
much,  that  at  last  she  had  been  unable  to  rise,  and 
for  hours  had  lain  helpless  on  the  ground. 

3.  One  bright  sunny  morning,  when  the  bees 
were  early  abroad,  Honeyball  shook  her  lazy  wings, 
and  crept  to  the  door  of  the  hive  :  there  she  stood 
for  a  few  moments,  jostled^  by  the  passing  throng, 
when  she  finally  flew  off  in  quest  of  food. 

4.  How  delightful  was  the  air^ !  how  fragrant" 
the  breeze^ !  The  buttercups  spread  their  carpet 
of  gold,  and  the  daisies  their  mantle  of  silver  over 
the  meadows,  all  glittering  with  the  drops  of  bright 
dew. 

5.  Honeyball  soon  found  a  flower  to  her  taste, 
and  never  thought  of  quitting  it  till  she  had  sipped 
away  all  its  honeyed  store.  She  had  a  dim^  idea 
that  it  was  her  duty  to  help  fill  the  honey-cells  of 
the  hive ;  but  poor  Honeyball  was  too  apt  to  pre- 
fer pleasure  to  duty. 

6.  "  I  should  like  to  have  nothing  to  do^ !"  she 
murmured,  little  thinking  that  a  listener  was  near. 

7.  ^'  Like  to  have  nothing  to  do' !  Is  it  from  a 
hive-bee  that  I  hear  such  words' !  From  one  whose 
labor  is  itself  all  play' !" 

8.  Honeyball  turned  to  view  the  speaker,  and 
beheld,  on  a  sign-post  near  her,  the  most  beautiful 
bee  she  had  ever  seen.  She  knew  her,  at  once,  to 
be  a  carpenter-bee.  Her  body  was  larger  than  that 
of  a  hive-bee,  and  her  wings  were  of  a  lovely  violet 
color,  like  the  softest  tint  of  the  rainbow. 

9.  Honeyball  was  a  little  ashamed  of  what  she 
had  said,  and  a  little  confused  by  the  speech  of  the 

H  2 


178  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

stranger:  but  as  all  bees  consider  eacli  other  as 
cousins,  she  thought  it  best  to  put  on  a  frank,  easy 
air. 

10.  "Why,  certainly,"  said  she,  "flying  about 
upon  a  morning  like  this,  and  sipping  honey  from 
flowers,  is  pleasant  enough  for  a  time.  But  may  I 
ask,  lady-bee,  if  you  do  not  think  it  hard  to  work  in 
wax^r 

11.  "To  work  in  wax^ !"  scornfully  replied  Vio- 
letta — "  a  spft  thing  which  you  can  bend  and  twist 
any  way,  and  knead^  into  any  shape  that  you 
choose' !  Come  and  look  at  my  home  here\  and 
then  ask  yourself  if  you  have  any  reason  to  com- 
plain of  yow  work^ !" 

12.  Honeyball  looked  forward  with  her  two 
honey-combed  eyes,  and  upward  and  backward 
with  her  three  others,  but  not  the  shadow  of  a  hive 
could  she  see  any  where.  "  May  I  venture  to  ask 
where  you  live''  V  said  she  at  last. 

13.  "This  way,"  cried  Violetta,  waving  her  feel- 
er, and  pointing  to  a  little  round  hole  in  the  post, 
which  Honeyball  had  not  noticed  before.  It  looked 
gloomy,  and  dark,  and  strange ;  but  Violetta,  who 
took  some  pride  in  her  mansion,^  requested  Honey- 
ball to  step  in. 

14.  "  You  can  not  doubt  my  honor,"  said  she, 
observing  that  the  hive- worker  hesitated,  "  or  be 
suspicious  of  a  cousin'  ?"  Honeyball  assured^  her 
that  she  had  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing,  and 
entered  the  hole  in  the  post. 

15.  For  about  an  inch  the  way  sloped  gently 
downward,  then  suddenly  became   straight  as   a 


THIRD  READER.  179 

well,  and  so  dark,  and  so  deep,  that  Honeyball 
would  never  liave  attempted  to  reach  the  bottom, 
had  she  not  feared  to  offend  her  new  acquaintance. 

16.  She  had  some  hopes  that  this  deep  passage 
might  be  only  a  long  entrance,  leading  to  some 
cheerful  hive ;  but  after  having  gone  to  the  very 
end,  and  finding  nothing  but  wood  to  reward  her 
search,  she  crept  again  up  the  steep  narrow  way, 
and  with  joy  found  herself  once  more  in  the  sun- 
shine. 

17.  "What  do  you  think  of  it'?"  asked  Violetta, 
rather  proudly. 

"  I — I — do  not  think  that  your  hive  would  hold 
many  bees.    Is  it  perfectly  finished,  may  I  inquire^  ?' 

18.  "No';  I  have  yet  to  divide  it  into  chambers 
for  my  children,  each  chamber  filled  with  a  mixture 
of  pollen  and  honey,  and  divided  from  the  next  by 
a  ceiling  of  glue  and  sawdust.  But  the  boring 
was  finished  to-day." 

19.  "You  do  not  inean  to  say,"  exclaimed  Hon- 
eyball in  surprise, "  that  that  long  gallery  was  ever 
bored  by  bees^  ?" 

20.  "  N'ot  by  5^^6'\"  replied  Violetta,  with  a  dig- 
nified^ bow,  "  but  by  one"  hee /  I  bored  it  all  my- 
self." 

21.  The  indolent  Honeyball  could  not  conceal 
her  amazement.  "  Is  it  possible  that  you  sawed  it 
all  out  with  your  teeth^  V 

"  Every  inch  of  the  depth,"  Violetta  replied, 

22.  "And  that  you  can  gather  honey  and  pollen 
enough  to  fill  it'  ?" 

"  I  must  provide'  for  my  children,  or  they  would 


180  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

starve,"  replied  Violetta.    "Away  down  tliere  I  lay 
my  little  eggs." 

23.  "And  you  can  make  ceilings  of  sacli  a  thing 
as  sawdust  to  divide  the  home  of  your  children 
into  cells'?" 

"This  is  perhaps  the  hardest  part  of  my  task, 
but  yet  it  must  be  done." 

24.  "  Where  will  you  find  sawdust  for  this  car- 
penter's work^  ?"  asked  Honeyball. 

"  See  yonder  little  heap  which  I  have  gathered 
— these  are  my  cuttings,  from  my  tunneP  in  the 
wood." 

25.  "You  are,  without  doubt,  a  most  wonderful 
bee,  my  fair  cousin !  And  you  really  labor  all 
alone'?" 

"  Yes,  all  alone,"  replied  Violetta. 

26.  Honeyball  thought  of  her  own  cheerful  hive, 
vdth  its  thousands  of  workers,  and  divisions  of  la- 
bor, and  waxen  cells  dripping  with  golden  honey. 
She  could  scarcely  believe  her  own  five  eyes  when 
she  saw  what  one  industrious  insect,  but  little  lar- 
ger than  herself,  could  do ! 

27.  Her  surprise,  and  her  praise,  pleased  the  vio- 
let bee,  who  took  pride  in  showing  every  part  of 
her  work,  describing  her  difficulties,  and  explain- 
ing her  manner  of  working. 

28.  "One  thing  strikes  me,"  said  Honeyball, 
glancing  down  the  tunnel.  "  I  should  not  like  to 
have  the  place  of  the  eldest  of  your  children,  im- 
prisoned down  there  in  the  lowest  cell,  and  unable 
to  stir  till  all  her  sisters  have  eaten  their  way  into 
daylight." 


THIRD  READER. 


181 


29.  Violetta  gave  what  in  Bee-land  is  considered 
a  smile.  ''  I  have  thought  of  that  difficulty,  and 
of  a  remedy  too,"  said  she.  "  I  am  about  to  bore 
a  little  hole  at  the  end  of  my  tunnel,  to  give  the 
young  bee  a  way  of  escape  from  its  prison.^' 

30.  "And  now,"  added  Violetta,  "I  will  detain^ 
you  no  longer,  so  much  remains  to  be  done,  and 
time  is  so  precious.  You  probably  have  some- 
thing to  collect  for  your  hive :  I  am  too  much  your 
friend  to  wish  you  to  be  idle." 

31.  Honeyball  thanked  her  new  acquaintance, 
and  flew  away,  somewhat  the  wiser  for  her  visit, 
and  better  contented  with  her  condition  in  life ;  for 
she  felt  that  not  for  ten  pairs  of  purple  wings  would 
she  change  places  with  the  carpenter-bee. 


*  Dis-TtTRu',  trouble;  annoy. 

^  Jos'-TLEi),  run  against ;  pushed  about. 

<5  Fra'-qrant,  sweet-smelling;  odorous. 

**  Dim,  faint ;  indistinct. 

•*  Knead,  v/ork  and  mix;  mould;  form. 

'  Man'-sion,  dwelling;  residence. 


8  As-sdtred',  declared ;  promised. 
^  Dig'-ni-fied,  stately ;  marked  with  dig- 
nity, [for. 

•  "Pro-vide'    for,"    make  preparations 
}  Tun'-nel,  hole;  passage. 

*  De-tain',  delay;  hinder. 


[Lesson  LXXVI.  In  the  fable  of  Honeyball  and  Violetta,  the  habits 
of  the  hive-bee  here  described,  and  of  the  carpenter-bee,  illustrate  two  op- 
posite phases  of  character  that  are  often  met  with  elsewhere  than  in  bee- 
land  :  the  one,  that  of  the  idler,  preferring  pleasure  to  duty,  discontented, 
and  to  whom  every  labor  is  an  irksome  task ;  the  other,  industrious,  con- 
tented, and  happy,  and  shunning  no  toil  required  by  duty. 

The  story  faithfully  represents  the  habits  and  the  wonderful  labors  of  the 
beautiful  carpenter-bee,  in  constructing  the  habitation  for  its  young.  As 
the  first  laid  and  lowest  egg  hatches  first,  the  young  bee  would  have  no 
way  of  getting  out,  if  the  mother-bee  had  not  provided  for  this  by  boring 
a  hole  into  the  bottom  of  the  nest.  Who  told  the  mother-bee  that  the  low- 
est egg  would  hatch  first  ?  And  who  taught  her  how  to  provide  for  the 
escape  of  the  young?  By  a  peculiar  instinct,  each  young  one,  as  it 
hatches,  turns  its  head  downward,  and  all  thus  pass  out  by  the  back  door 
of  the  dwelling.] 


182 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  LXXYII. 
The  Thrush's   Sono. 


i^/^ 


1.  Methought^  a  thrush  upon  a  tree 
Sweetly  sang  one  day  to  me, 

" I^oet\  poet\  hear  W2e\  hear  me"  /" 
"  Hear  thee'  ?"  I  at  once  replied  ;^ 
"  Honest  fellow,  yes,  with  pride." 
And  then  he  poured  out  such  a  tide 
Of  joy,  to  cheer  me. 

2.  "  Happy,  happy  bird,"  said  I, 
"  Ever  would  I  linger*^  by." 

" Poet\  poet\  hear  me\  hear  me'  /" 
Loud,  and  louder  yet  he  sang. 
Till  the  distant  woodlands  rang 
With  his  wild  and  merry  clang^ — 
And  all  to  cheer  me. 


*  Me-thought',  I  thought. 
''  Re-plied',  answered. 


'^  Lin'-ger,  loiter. 
°  Clang,  song. 


[Lesson  LXXVII.  The  sounds  produced  by  a  correct  reading  of  the 
third  line  in  each  verse  are  in  imitation  of  the  notes  of  the  thrush.  The 
family  of  the  thrushes  includes  our  wood-thrush,  the  English  mavis,  the 
American  robin,  the  mocking-bird,  etc.  The  cut  at  the  head  of  the  lesson 
represents  the  mocking-bird.] 


THIRD  READEll.  |183 

LESSON  LXXVIII. 
Speak  Gently:  Kindly. 

1.  Speak  gently:  it  is  better  far 

To  rule  by  love  than  fear : 
Speak  gently :  let  not  harsh  words  mar 
The  good  we  might  do  here. 

2.  Speak  gently :  'tis  a  little  thing 

Dropped  in  the  heart's  deep  well : 
The  good,  the  joy,  which  it  may  bring, 
Eternity  shall  tell. 

3.  Speak  kindly  to  thy  fellow-man\ 

Lest  he  should  die  while  yet 
Thy  bitter  accents^  wring  his  heart 
And  make  his  pale  cheeks  wet. 

4.  Speak  not  harshly^ :  much  of  care 
Every  human  heart  must  bear. 

By  thy  childhood's  gushing  tears\* 
By  thy  grief  in  after  years\ 
By  the  anguish^  thou  dost  know', 
Add  not  to  another's  woe\ 

^.  Speak  not  harshly^ :  much  of  sin 
Dwelleth  every  heart  within. 
By  the  wrongs  thou  didst  not  shun\ 
By  the  good  thou  hast  not  done\* 
With  a  gentle  spirit  scan° 
The  weakness  of  thy  brother  man. 

6.  Speak  kindly  to  thy  brother  inaii\  for  lie  has 
many  cares  thou  dost  not  know^;  he  has  many 
sorrows  thine  eye  has  not  seen^;  and  his  heart  may, 
even  now,  be  breaking. 

7.  Oh,  speak  kindly  to  him.  Perhaps  a  word 
from  thee  will  kindle  the  light  of  joy  within  him, 

*  Earnest  entreaty  requires  the  falling  inflection.     Sec  Rules  IX.  and  X. 


184 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


and  make  his  pathway  of  life  more  pleasant. 
Harsh  words  can  never  recalP  the  erring — kind- 
ness may. 


Scan,  look  upon ;  examine  closely. 
Ke-call',  call  tack. 


*  Ao'-CENTS,  words ;    modulation  of  the 

\oice  in  speaking. 
"  An'-guish,  grief;  agony. 

[Lesson  LXXVIII.  is  an  exhortation  to  gentleness  and  kindness,  in 
spee3h  arid  conduct,  on  the  principle  that  it  is  better  to  rule  by  love  than  by 
fear — that  harsh  words  mar  the  good  we  might  do,  etc.  We  are  appealed 
to,  through  the  remembrance  of  our  own  sorrows,  not  to  add,  by  harsh 
words,  to  another's  woe ;  and  we  are  exhorted,  by  being  reminded  of  our 
own  en-ors,  not  to  be  too  severe  upon  the  errors  of  others.] 


LESSON  LXXIX. 
The  Farmer  in  Autumn. 


An  Autumn  tjcene. 


1.  Here  is  a  picture  of  an  autumn  scene  in  the 
country,  showing  the  farmer  at  work  after  he  has 
finished  his  summer  harvest.     He  now  plows  over 


THIRD  READER. 


185 


his  summer-fallows  *  and  sows  his  winter  wheat 
and  winter  rye — that  is,  wheat  and  rye  that  are 
to  remain  in  the  field  during  the  winter,  and  be 
harvested  the  next  summer.  After  the  wheat  is 
sown,  it  is  covered  with  .earth  by  the  use  of  a 
drag,  or  harrow.  Wheat  and  rye  that  are  sown 
in  the  spring  are  called  spring  wheat,  and  spring 
rye. 

2.  The  fall-sown  grain  comes  up  before  the  win- 
ter sets  in^ :  but  if  there  is  but  little  snow  during 
the  winter^,  and  if  the  ground  freezes  and  thaws 
often^,  the  roots  of  the  grain  are  apt  to  be  thrown 
out  of  the  earth\  and  the  grain  then  dies\  The 
farmer  says  it  is  xomter-MUed,  Much  snow,  during 
the  winter,  is  good  for  the  wheat  and  rye,  as  it 
keeps  the  ground  warm. 

3.  After  the  fall-sowing,  comes  the  general  gath- 
ering of  the  apples.  And  first,  the  winter  apples 
must  be   carefully  picked  from  the  trees.     They 

must  not  be  shaken 
ofi*,  for  they  would 
be  bruised  by  the 
fall,  and  the  bruising 
would  cause  them  to 
decay. 

4.  Who  can  name 
the  best  kinds  of  win- 
ter apples^?  Is  not 
the  greening  a  gener- 

Gathering  Apples.  ^1  faVOritc'  %       Is  It  aS 

good  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  as  in  the  winter^  ? 

*  La,nd  lah  fallow,  or  unsown,  during  the  summer.     See  page  116. 


186 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


Why  not^?     What  can  be  said  in  favor  of  the 
pippin,  the  seek-no-farther,  and  the  russets^  ? 

5.  After  the  winter  apples  have  been  carefully 
gathered,  the  trees  dre  shaken,  and  cleared  of  their 
fruit ;  or  the  apples  are  beaten  off  with  a  pole. 
These  remaining  apples  are  picked  up  and  carried 
to  the  cider-mill,  where  they  are  ground  into  a  soft 
pulpy  mass. 

6.  Formerly  the  apples  were  crushed  by  a  large 
wooden  wheel,  which  Was  drawn  around  in  a  large 
circular  trough,  as  we  see  in  the  picture  below. 
The  new  and  better  kind  of  cider -mill  is  also 
shown  in  the  picture. 


Old  Mill. 


7.  When  the  apples  have  been  crushed,  or  ground 
fine,  the  pulp  is  put  into  presses,  and  the  juice  is 
pressed  from  it.    This  fresh  juice  is  the  sweet  cider 


THIRD  READER.  187 

whicli  most  persons  are  so  fond  of:  but  in  a  few 
weeks  it  becomes  sour;  and  if  it  be  left  exposed  to 
the  air,  it  will  in  time  turn  to  vinegar. 

8.  And  what  merry  times  boys  have,  in  the  fall 
of  the  year,  in  nut-gathering — and  not  only  the 
boys,  but  the  squirrels  also.  After  a  few  hard 
frosts  the  shucks  of  the  hickory-nut,  and  the  burs 
of  the  chestnut  open,  and  their  fruit  falls  to  the 
ground.  Sometimes  boys  climb  the  trees,  and 
shake  off  the  nuts,  or  they  beat  them  off  with  aj 
pole.  Boys  gather  black  walnuts,  and  butternuti 
also. 

9.  Gaily  chattering  to  the  clattering 

Of  the  brown  nuts^downward  pattering, 

Leap  the  squirrels  red  and  gray. 
On  the  grass  land,  on  the  fallow, 
Drop  the  apples,  red  and  yellow ; 
Drop  the  russet  pears,  and  mellow  ; 
Drop  the  red  leaves  all  the  day. 

[Lesson  LXXIX.  The  story  of  the  farmer's  life  is  here  continued, 
from  page  129.  Plowing  and  sowing  in  autumn.  The  fall-sown  gran. 
Gathering  apples.  Winter  apples.  Making  cider.  Nut-gathering.  C^ 
ing  lines  of  poetry.     What  trees  have  the  reddest  leaves  in  autumn  ?] 


Bad   Thought. 
Bad  Thought's  a  thief  ^ !     He  acts  his  part^ ; 
Creeps  through  the  window  of  the  heart^ ; 
And  if  he  once  his  way  can  win', 
He  lets  a  hundred  robbers  in. 


Advice. 

If  wisdom's  ways  you  wisely  seek', 
Five  things  observe  with  care^ ; 

Of  whom  you  speak',  to  whom  you  speak', 
And  hoio\  and  whertT^  and  where". 


188 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  LXXX. 
The  Farmer  in  Autumn — Co7itinued. 


-^    \ 


Corn-husking  by  Moonlight. 

1.  Has  the  farmer  any  work  to  do  in  the  fields, 
after  the  fall-sowing,  and  the  gathering  of  the  ap- 
ples' ?  Have  all  his  crops  been  gathered'  ?  Has 
his  Indian  corn  been  secured'  ?  It  is  now  that  his 
corn  harvest  begins  —  in  those  pleasant  autumn 
days  that  are  called  the  "Indian  summer,"  when 
the  air  is  almost  as  soft  and  balmy  as  in  spring- 
time. 

2.  Sometimes  the  corn  is  cut  up  by  the  roots, 
and  drawn  off  to  some  grassy  spot,  where  the  ears 
of  corn  are  husked,  and  then  stored  away  in  the 
batn,  the  corn-crib,  or  the  corn-house.  The  corn- 
stalks are  bound  up  in  bundles,  to  serve  as  fodder 
for  the  cattle  in  winter. 


THIRD  READER.  189 

8.  Sometimes  the  corn  is  husked  where  it  grew, 
after  the  stalks  have  been  cut  off  as  low  down  as 
the  ear.  Sometimes  the  ears  of  corn  are  picked  off 
before  they  are  husked,  and  carried  to  the  barn, 
there  to  be  stripped  of  their  husks  in  cold  weather, 
when  but  little  out-door  work  can  be  done. 

4.  There  is  a  picture  of  a  corn-husking,  or  husk- 
ing-bee,  at  the  head  of  this  lesson,  and  this  is  the 
story  of  it.  The  old  man  who  lived  in  the  cottage 
which  we  see,  was  poor,  and  he  was  sick  also,  and 
he  did  not  know  how  he  should  get  his  corn 
husked.  He  was  greatly  troubled  about  it;  for 
he  needed  the  corn,  to  make  Indian  meal  of  it  for 
himself  and  his  family ;  and  he  needed  the  corn- 
stalks, and  husks,  for  his  cow. 

5.  His  neighbors  talked  the  matter  over,  and 
they  agreed  that  they  would  make  a  husking-bee 
for  him.  So  one  cool  but  pleasant  November  even- 
ing they  went — more  than  twenty  of  them — and 
the  old  man  knew  nothing  about  it — and  by  mid- 
night they  had  husked  out  all  his  corn,  and  put  it  up 
nicely  in  the  corn-crib.    They  had  a  pleasant  time. 

6.  I  wish  I  could  have  seen  the  old  man,  and 
heard  what  he  said,  when  he  looked  out  of  the 
window  the  next  morning,  and  found  his  corn-crib 
full  of  corn,  and  the  corn-stalks  handsomely  stacked 
up  near  by.  I  think  a  tear  started  in  his  eye,  as 
he  said,  "  My  good  neighbors  have  done  this.  May 
the  Lord  bless  them  for  all  theii^  kindness  to  me." 

[Lesson  LXXX.  The  story  of  the  farmer's  life  in  autumn  is  here  con- 
tinued. The  corn  harvest  —  Indian  summer.  Methods  of  securing  the 
corn.     A  corn-husking  by  moonlight.] 


190  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

LESSON  LXXXI. 
Autumn. 

1.  Summer's  over — summer's  over — 

Sighing  breezes  whisper  now^ ; 
*     And  the  leafless  trees  now  cover 
Misty  vale  and  mountain's  brow. 

2.  Now  do  Autumn's  winds  come  rushing^ ; 

Now  December's  tempests  moan^ ; 
Now  the  leaves,  in  beauty  blushing', 
O'er  the  faded  earth  are  strown. 

[Lesson  LXXXI.  is  a  brief  but  vivid  poetical  description  of  autnmn. 
The  "  sighing  breezes"  that  announce  the  departure  of  summer,  give  place, 
in  December,  to  "rushing  winds,"  and  "moaning  tempests."  What  k 
the  meaning  of  "the  leaves  in  beauty  blushing f'^ 


LESSON  LXXXII. 
Why   Call  me   Poor? 

1.  Why  call  me  poor^  ?    The  sunbeams  smile 

As  warmly,  brightly  on  my  home. 

Though  'tis  an  humble,  log-built  pile, 

As  on  the  lordly  palace  dome. 
■    '^ 

2.  Why  call  me  poor^  ?     Content  am  I 

My  lot  to  bear,  where'er  it  be  ; 
Though  grief  may  sometimes  cloud  my  sky, 
I'll  hope  a  brighter  day  to  see. 

3.  Why  call  me  poor^  ?    I  am  not  so. 

While  God's  rich  bounty  still  is  mine : 
To  him  my  all  of  good  I  owe — 

Whom\  scorner',  owest  thou  for  thine^  ? 

[Lesson  LXXXII.  The  answer  to  the  question,  "  Why  call  me  poor  ?" 
is  designed  to  express  the  idea  that  no  one  is  poor  who  can  enjoy  the  ordi- 
nary gifts  of  God's  providence,  who  is  contented  with  his  lot,  who  lives  in 
hope  of  a  brighter  day,  and  who  feels  that  he  owes  all  to  God  alone.] 


THIED  READER. 


191 


LESSON  LXXXIII. 
The  Water-rat. 


1.  Go  with  me  to  the  stream,  on  this  bright  summer  day, 
And  I'll  show  you  the  brown  water-rat  at  his  play ; 

A  glad,  innocent  creature,  for  whom  was  ordained* 
The  quiet  of  brooks,  and  the  plants  they  contained. 

2.  But,  husV  !  step  as  lightly  as  leaves  in  their  fall : 
Man  has  wronged  him,  and  he  is  in  fear  of  us  all. 
See^ !  there  he  is  sitting,  the  tree-roots  among. 
And  the  reed-sparrow  by  him  is  singing  his  song. 

3.  See  how  gravely^  he  sits^ !  how  sedate*^  and  how  still, 
Like  a  hermit  of  old  at  his  mossy  door-silP  ! 

See,  see^ !  now  his  mood  of  sedateness  is  gone. 
And  some  very  queer  motions  he'll  show  us  anon. 

4.  LookM  look  now\'  how  quickly  the  water  he  cleavesM'^ 
And  again  he  is  up  'mong  those  arrow-head  leaves ; 

See  his  little  black  head^ !  how  his  eyes,  sparkling,  shine^  I 
He  has  made  up  his  mind  on  these  dainties  to  dine ! 

5.  Sure,  he  has  not  a  want  which  he  can  not  supply 
In  a  water  like  this,  with  these  water-plants  nigh. 
Yes ;  a  plentiful^  table  is  spread  for  him  here : — 
What  a  pity  it  is  man  has  taught  him  to  fear ! 


192 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


6.  Look^ !  look  at  him  no.w^ !  how  he  sitteth  afloat 
On  the  broad  water-lily  leaf,  as  in  a  boat^ ! 

See  the  antics^  he  plays^ !  how  he  dives  in  the  stream 
To  and  fro — now  he  chases  that  dancing  sunbeam ; 
Now  he  stands  for  a  moment,  as  if  half  perplexed,^ 
In  his  frolicsome^  heart,  to  know  what  to  do  next. 

7.  Ha^ !  see  him  now^ !  that  dragon-fly  sets  him  astir, 
And  he  launches  away  like  a  brave  mariner  ;^ 

See  there^ !  up  the  stream  how  he  merrily  rows. 
And  the  tall  fragrant^  water-reed  bows  as  he  goes^ ! 
And  now  he  is  lost  at  the  foot  ef  the  tree ; — 
'Tis  his  home,  and  a  snug  little  home  it  must  be. 

8.  And  'tis  thus  that  the  water-rat  liveth  all  day. 

In  these  small  pleasures  wearing  the  summer  away^ ; 
And  when  winter  comes',  and  the  water-plants  die'. 
And  the  little  brooks  yield  him  no  longer  supply', 
Down  into  his  burrow'^  he  cozily^  creeps. 
And  quietly  through  the  long  winter-time  sleeps. 
Thus,  in  summer,  his  table  by  Nature  is  spread^ ; 
And  old  mother  Earth  makes,  in  winter,  his  bed. 

Mrs.  HowitTo 


»  Ob-dained',  appointed. 

''  Gbave'-lt,  solemnly. 

"=  Se-date',  calm ;  undisturbed. 

•1  Cleaves,  divides  by  swimming. 

*  Plen'-ti-ful,  bountiful ;  abundant. 

^  An'-ti€8,  queer  motions ;  oddities. 


e  Pee-plex'ed,  puzzled. 

••  Fbol'-I€-bome,  full  of  playfulness. 

'  Mae'-i-neb,  seaman ;  sailor. 

J  Fba'-geant,  sweet-smelling. 

^  Bub' -BOW,  boUow  place  in  the  earth. 

'  Co'-zi-LY,  snugly ;  comfortably. 


[Lesson  LXXXIII.  is  a  description  of  the  habits  of  the  water-rat,  in 
his  home  by  the  meadow -stream.  The  innocent  pleasures  in  which  he 
"  wears  the  summer  away,"  when  he  is  undisturbed,  are  described.  He 
sleeps  in  his  burrow  through  the  winter.] 


G:entle  Words  and  Kind  Deeds. 

One  gentle  word  that  we  may  speak, 

Or  one  kind,  loving  deed. 
May,  though  a  trifle  poor  and  weak, 

Prove  like  a  tiny  seed : 
And  who  can  tell  what  good  may  spring 
From  such  a  very  little  thing ! 


THIRD  HEADER. 


193 


LESSON  LXXXIY. 
What  are  Living  Objects. 


1.  "How  many  living 
objects  do  you  see  in  this 
picture^  ?'  asked  Willie. 

2.  "Let  me  see\"  said 
Lucy.  "There  are  two 
men^,  and  two   women^, 

and  a  bird',  and  a  rabbit\     That  makes  six  in  all. 
Six  living  objects." 

3.  "Are  you  sure  that  is  right'  V  asked  Willie. 
"  Can't  you  find  any  more'  ?  I  think  I  can  see  a 
great  many  more." 

4.  "  Now  where\  Willie'  ?  There  may  be  some 
more  over  the  ridge  of  the  hill,  or  in  the  grass',  or 
among  the  flowers^ ;  but  /can't  see  them'.  There 
may  be  a  great  many  insects  flying  about  the  flow- 
ers ;  but  I  am  sure  they  are  not  in  the  picture." 

5.  "  I  think  I  can  see  more  than  a  dozeii  living 


194  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

objects,"  said  Willie.  "  Don't  you  see  the  lilies  in 
the  water^,  and  the  flowers  around  the  rabbit',  and 
all  the  grass  on  the  ridge  where  the  people  are', 
and  the  three  little  trees  on  the  hill-side  beyond 
them'  ?  And  are  not  all  these  living  objects'  ? 
Are  not  all  those  plants  alive'  ?  and  the  grass,  and 
the  trees'  V 

6.  "  Now\  Willie',  you  are  always  trying  to  puz- 
zle^ me."  Lucy  sat  silent  for  a  while^ ;  but  pretty 
soon  she  asked,  "•  Why  do  you  call  the  trees,  and 
the  grass,  live  objects^  ?  They  can  not  move  about, 
like  animals'." 

7.  "  No,"  said  Willie ;  "  but  they  grow\  and  they 
are  alive"^  are  they  not'?  There  are  some  dead 
trees' ;  and  there  is  some  dead  grass^ ;  but  when 
the  trees  and  the  grass  grow,  are  they  not  alive'  V 

8.  '*  Are  stones^  and  rochs^  alive'  ?"  asked  Lucy. 
"No\"   said  Willie.     ^' Uncle   John   says  they 

were  made  as  they  are ;  and  that  they  were  never 
alive." 

9.  Just  then  Uncle  John  came  in,  when  Lucy 
asked  him  why  trees  and  plants  are  live  objects, 
any  more  than  stones. 

10.  "  Because,"  he  replied,  "  the  tree  and  the  lit- 
tle plant  have  roots  by  which  they  get  their  food 
from  the  earth,  leaves  by  which  they  breathe,  and 
little  tubes,  or  sap  vessels^  through  which  the  sap 
flows  to  nourish  them.  Have  stones  any  such  way 
of  living  T 

11.  Lucy  saw  there  was  a  greater  difference  be- 
tween plants  and  stones  than  she  had  ever  thought 
of;  and  that  plants,  as  well  as  animals,  really  live^ 


THIRD  READER.  195 

and  grow,     "  But  lohy^''  she  asked,  "  do  not  stones 
live  and  grow  also^?" 

12.  "I  can  not  tell  you  ivhy  they  do  not,"  said 
Uncle  John,  "  any  more  than  I  can  tell  you  why 
God  did  not  mate  all  things  alike.  All  we  can 
say,  is,  God  made  tliem  so^ 

[Lesson  LXXXIV.  The  chief  design  of  this  lesson  is  to  lead  children 
to  reflect  upon  the  leading  distinctions  between  animate  and  inanimate 
nature.  Let  the  teacher  aid  the  pupils  in  folloAving  out  the  reflections 
which  the  lesson  naturally  suggests.] 


LESSON"  LXXXY. 
Now  AND  Then: — By-and-By. 

1.  ^''Noio''^  is  the  syllable  ever  ticking  from  the 
clock  of  Time.  ^'•Now'''  is  the  watchword  of  the 
wise.     ''N'oiv'^  is  on  the  banner  of  the  prudent. 

2.  Let  us  keep  this  little  word  always  in  mind. 
Whenever  we  have  any  work  or  study  to  do^,  we 
should  do  it  with  all  our  might\  remembering  that 
"iV6>w"  is  the  only  time  we  can  call  our  own. 

3.  We  shall  find  it  a  poor  way  to  get  through 
the  world,  if  we  fall  into  the  habit  of  putting  oflF 
till  to-morrow,  what  should  be  done  to-day\  saying, 
"'TJieri'  I  will  do  it."  No^ !  this  will  never  answer. 
^'N'otd^''  is  ours.     ^'Tlien^''  may  never  be. 

4.  Do  not  trust  to  that  mischief  maker  By-and- 
By,  He  is  a  bad  pilot^ ;  and  if  you  listen  to  him^, 
on  the  desolate  shores  of  Never  he  will  be  sure  to 
land  you — ly-and-hy. 

5.  There  is  a  little  mischief-making 
Elfin,*  who  is  ever  nigh\ 
Thwarting^  every  undertaking^  f 
And  his  name  is  By-and-By. 


196  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

6.  What  we  ought  to  do  this  minute, 

"  Will  be  better  done,"  he'll  cry, 
"  If  to-morrow  we  begin  it :" 
^'•Put  it  off^''  says  By-and-By. 

7.  Those  who  heed  the  treacherous  wooing/ 

Will  his  faithless  guidance  rue  f 
What  we  always  put  off  doing', 
Clearly  we  shall  never^  do. 

8.  We  shall  reach  what  we  endeavor, 

If  on  ^'•JVbw^^  we  more  rely ; 

But,  unto  the  realms  of  Never, 

Leads  the  pilot  By-and-By. 


■  Elf'-in,  a  fairy ;  an  imaginary  wander- 
ing spirit. 
''  Thwabx'-ing,  opposing;  frustrating. 


«  Un-dek-tak'-inq,  any  kind  of  bnsinesa, 
work,  etc.  [tation. 

•*  Woo'-iNG,  solicitation;  persuasive  invi- 
«  Rue,  regret ;  be  sony  for. 

[Lesson  LXXXV.  This  is  a  lesson  upon  the  danger  of  Procrastination 
— of  putting  off,  till  to-morrow,  what  should  be  done  to-day.  It  is  a  fit- 
ting sequel  to  Lessons  XX.,  XXL,  XXXL,  XXXIL,  and  LXXIV.] 


LESSON  LXXXYI. 
The  Ceows  and  the  Wiisd-mill. — A  JFhble, 

1.  It  seems  there  was  once  a  wind-mill  —  his- 
tory does  not  tell  us  exactly  where,  and  I  sup- 
pose it  is  not  much  matter  where  it  was — which 
went  round  and  round,  day  after  day.  It  did  no 
harm  to  any  body.  It  never  knocked  any  body 
down,  unless  he  got  under  it,  within  reach  of  its 
great  arms.  What  if  it  did  use  the  air^ !  It  did 
not  hurt  the  air  any,  for  the  air  was  just  as  good 
for  breathing  after  it  had  turned  the  mill,  as  it  was 
before. 

2.  But  there  was-  a  flock  of  crows  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, that  took  quite  a  dislike  to  the  innocent 
mill.    They  said  there  must  be  some  mischief  about 


THIRD  READER.  197 

it.  They  did  not  at  all  like  its  actions.  The  swing- 
ing of  those  long  arms,  for  a  whole  day  at  a  time, 
really  looked  suspicious."-  And,  besides  that,  it 
was  rumored,^  in  the  crow-village,  that  a  good- 
natured  crow  once  went  to  look  at  the  wind-mill, 
and  that  the  great  thing  hit  him  a  knock  with  one 
of  its  arms,  and  killed  him  on  the  spot. 

3.  Some  half  a  dozen  of  the  flock  of  crows  that 
felt  so  much  alarmed  were  talking  together,  at  one 
time,  when  the  conversation  turned,  as  was  gener- 
ally the  case,  upon  the  giant  mill.  After  talking 
a  while,  it  was  thought  best  to  call  a  council^  of 
all  the  crows  in  the  country,  to  see  if  some  means 
could  not  be  hit  upon,  by  which  the  dangerous 
thing  could  be  got  rid  of. 

4.  The  meeting  was  called,  and  the  council  met 
in  a  corn-field.  Such  a  cawing  and  chattering  was 
never  before  heard  in  that  neighborhood.  They 
appointed  a  chairman — perhaps  we  ought  to  say 
a  chair-crow — and  other  officers,  and  proceeded  to 
business. 

5.  As  is  usual  in  public  meetings  of  this  nature, 
there  were  many  different  opinions  as  to  the  ques- 
tion, "What  is  best  to  be  done  with  the  wind- 
mill ?'  Most  of  the  crows  thought  the  wind-mill 
a  dangerous  thing — a  ve7y  dangerous  thing  indeed : 
but  then,  as  to  the  best  mode  of  getting  rid  of  it, 
that  was  not  so  easy  a  matter  to  decide. 

6.  There  were  some  crows  at  the  meeting  who 
were  for  going,  at  once,  right  over  to  the  mnd-mill 
— all  the  crows  in  a  body — and  destroying  the 
thing  on  the  spot.     In  justice  to  the  crow  family 


w 


198  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

in  general,  however,  it  ought  to  be  stated  that  those 
who  talked  about  this  warlike  measure  were  rather 
young.  Their  feathers  were  not  yet  quite  fully 
grown,  and  they  had  not  seen  so  much  of  the  world 
as  their  fathers  had. 

7.  After  there  had  been  much  loud  talking,  all 
over  and  around  the  great  elm-tree  where  the  coun- 
cil was  held,  one  old  crow  said  he  had  a  few  ques- 
tions to  ask.  He  had  a  plan  to  recommend,  too — 
perhaps — and  perhaps  not.  It  would  depend  upon 
the  answers  to  his  questions,  whether  he  gave  any 
advice  or  not. 

8.  He  would  beg  leave  to  inquire,  he  said,  through 
the  chairman,  if  the  wind-mill  had  ever  been  known 
to  go  away  from  the  place  where  it  was  then  stand- 
ing, and  to  chase  crows  around  the  fields,  for  the 
purpose  of  killing  them. 

9.  It  was  decided  that  such  conduct  on  the  part 
of  the  giant  had  never  been  heard  of.  Even  the 
oldest  inhabitant,  who  had  heard,  from  his  grand- 
father, the  story  about  the  unhappy  fate  of  the 
crow  that  perished  by  a  blow  from  the  giant's 
arms,  did  not  remember  to  have  heard  that  the 
wind-mill  had  ever  made  such  warlike  visits. 

10.  "  How  then,"  the  speaker  wished  to  know, 
"  was  that  crow  killed  in  old  times^  ?" 

The  answer  was,  "  By  venturing^  too  near  the 
mill." 

11.  "And  is  that  the  only  way  that  any  of  us 
are  likely  to  get  killed  by  the  wind-mill  ?" 

"  Yes,"  the  scare-croio  said,  "  that  is  the  way,  I 
believe." 


'       THIRD  READER.  199 

And  the  crows  generally  nodded  their  heads,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  Certainly,  of  course." 

12.  "Well,  then,"  said  the  old  crow  who  asked 
the  questions,  "fe^  us  heep  aivay  from  the  mill. 
That  is  all  I  have  to  say." 

At  this  the  whole  council  set  up  a  noisy  laugh 
of  approbation.  The  meeting  broke  up.  The  gen- 
eral opinion  was,  that  the  advice  of  the  last  speak- 
er was,  on  the  whole,  the  safest  and  best  that  could 
be  given. 

13.  There  are  some  things,  very  harmless  in 
themselves,  and  very  useful  too  in  their  proper 
places,  that  will  be  very  apt  to  injure  us  if  we  go 
too  near  them.  In  such  cases,  remember  the  ad- 
vice of  the  wise  crow,  and  Iceep  away  from  the  mill, 

*  Sus-pi'-cious,  denoting  something  wrong.  I    <=  Coun'-cil,  an  assembly  for  deliberation. 
^  Ru'-MOEED,  reported ;  talked  of.  |    '^  Vent'-ue-ing,  daring  to  go. 

[Lesson  LXXXVI.  The  fable  of  the  crows  and  the  wind-mill  is  de- 
signed to  illustrate  the  folly  of  those  who  are  continually  going  out  of  their 
way,  and  thereby  getting  into  difficulty,  and  then  finding  fault  with  what 
does  not  concern  them,  and  in  which  they  have  no  interest.] 


LESSON  LXXXYII. 
Better  than  Pearls,  Gold,  a:n^d  Diamonds. 

1.  Would  it  not  please  you,  children,  to  pick  up 
strings  of  pearls,  drops  of  gold,  diamonds,  and  pre- 
cious stones,  as  you  pass  along  the  street^  ?  Would 
it  make  you  feel  happy  for  a  month  to  come^  ? 

2.  Such  happiness  you  can  often  give  to  others. 
Do  you  ask  how^?  By  dropping*  sweet  words^; 
by  making  kind  remarks^ ;  and  by  having  a  pleas- 
ant  smile  for  all. 


200 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


3.  These  are  true  pearls  and  precious  stones, 
wliicli  can  never  be  lost^ ; — of  which  none  can  de- 
prive^ you.  If  you  give  them  away',  they  will  re- 
turn, and  bless  you. 

4.  Speak  kindly  to  that  orphan^  child\  Do  you 
not  see  the  diamonds  drop  from  her  cheeks'?  Take 
the  hand  of  that  friendless  boy\  Do  you  not  see 
the  bright  pearls  flash  in  his  eyes'?  Smile  on  the 
sad  and  dejected\''  Does  not  your  kindness  flush*^ 
the  cheek  with  a  joy  more  brilliant  than  the  most 
precious  stones'? 

5.  Wherever  you  meet  the  poor,  and  the  sorrow- 
ing, give  them  words  of  kindness,  and  pleasant 
smiles,  to  cheer  and  to  bless.  You  will  feel  hap- 
pier, when  resting  upon  your  pillow,  at  the  close 
of  the  day,  than  if  you  had  found  a  casket^  of  jew- 
els. The  latter  fade  and  crumble  in  time^:  the 
former  grow  brighter  with  age,  and  will  shine  as 
stars  in  the  firmament^  of  heaven. 


a  Dkop'-ping,  uttering ;  speaking. 
*>  Or'-ph.vn,  bereaved  of  parents. 
<=  De-ject'-ed,  downcast ;  dispirited. 


'^  Flush,  cause  the  blood  to  rush  suddenly 

to  the  face. 
^  Cask'-et,  a  small  box,  or  chest.        [sky. 
^  Fiem'-a-ment,  the  region  of  the  air ;  the 


[Lesson  LXXXVII.  is  a  farther  illustration  of  the  principle  embraced 
in  Lesson  LXXVIII.  Pleasant  smiles,  and  words  and  acts  of  kindness, 
are  often  worth  more,  to  the  poor  and  the  sorrowing,  than  pearls,  gold, 
and  diamonds.     And,  what  is  more,  all  of  us  have  the  former  to  bestow.] 


LESSON  LXXXYIII. 

Words  ant>  Acts  of  Kindness. 

1.  Little  Words  of  kindness, 

How  they  cheer  the  heart^ ! 
What  a  world  of  gladness 
Will  a  smile  impart^ ! 


THIKD  REAl^EK.  201 

2.  How  a  gentle  accent 

Calms  the  troubled  soul, 
When  the  waves  of  passion 
O'er  it  wildly  roll ! 

3.  Little  Acts  of  kindness — 

Nothing  do  they  cost^ ; 
Yet  when  they  are  wanting', 
Life's  best  charm  is  lost. 

4.  Little  acts  of  kindness — 

Richest  gems  of  earth — 
Though  they  seew>  but  trifles', 
Priceless  is  their  worth. 

[Lesson  LXXXVIII.  is  a  continuation  of  the  subject  embraced  in  Les- 
sons LXXVIIL  and  LXXXVIL  Words  and  acts  of  kindness  are  of 
priceless  worth.'\ 


LESSON  LXXXIX. 
The  Farmer  in  Winter. 

1.  On  the  next  page  is  a  picture  of  the  same 
fami-house  that  we  saw  at  the  beginning  of  the 
lessons  about  the  farmer."^  But  the  scene  has 
changed.  It  was  then  in  the  spring-time.  It  is 
now  late  in  the  season,  and  Avinter  is  near. 

2.  After  the  corn-harvest,  there  is  little  for  the 
farmer  to  do  on  his  farm ;  but  sometimes  he  does 
not  get  through  with  the  husking  until  it  is  bitter 
cold,  and  a  few  large  snow-flakes  now  and  then 
warn  him  that  the  Indian  summer  is  over. 

3.  But  there  are  other  signs  of  approaching 
winter.  Why  does  the  farmer  watch  for  the  first 
flocks  of  wild  geese  from  the  North  ?  When  the 
Northern  lakes  freeze  over,  the  wild  geese  leave 

*  See  page  110. 

12 


202 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


Getting  in  the  Winter  Supplies. 

them,  and  fly  away  to  a  sunnier  clime ;  and  when 
the  farmer  sees  them  flying  southward,  in  long 
lines,  as  is  shown  in  the  picture,  or  hears  their 
shrill  voices  at  night  as  they  pass  in  the  air  far 
above  him,  he  knows  that  winter  will  soon  come. 

4.  But  are  the  farmer  and  the  farmer's  sons  idle 
during  the  winter?  Are  not  the  cattle,  and  the 
sheep,  and  the  horses  to  be  taken  care  of?  They 
would  starve  if  no  hay  were  given  to  them.  So 
twice  a  day — in  the  morning,  and  just  at  sunset — 
the  farmer  and  his^  sons  go  out  to  fodder  the  cattle, 
and  the  sheep,  and  to  see  that  they  are  well  pro- 
tected from  the  cold,  and  the  storms  of  winter. 

5.  But  there  is  more  to  be  done  than  all  this. 
The  wheat,  and  barley,  and  oats,  and  other  kinds 
of  grain,  are  to  be  threshed  out,  and  taken  away 
and  sold ;  and  the  wood-shed  is  to  be  filled  with 


THIKD  READER. 


203 


firewood  for  another  year.    Very  few  fanoaers  burn 

coal. 

6.  Winter  is  the 
best  time  for  study. 
Then  the  country 
school-house  is  filled 
with  happy  children 
busy  with  their  les- 
sons, but  eager  for 
play  when  school  is 
over.  For  them  win- 
ter has  its  many 
healthy  sports  and  amusements,  among  which  are 
snow-balling,  sliding  down  hill  or  coasting,  and 
sleigh-riding.  With  all  its  snow,  and  storms,  and 
cold,  there  are  many  sunny  days  in  winter ;  and 
winter  is  always  a  pleasant  season  of  the  year  in  a 
happy  country  home. 

7.  Summer  is  a  glorious  season, 

Warm,  and  bright,  and  pleasant ; 
But  the  past  is  not  a  reason 

To  despise  the  present. 
So,  while  Health  can  climb  the  mountain, 

And  the  log  lights  up  the  hall. 
There  are  sunny  days  in  Wmter^ 
After  all. 

[Lessok  LXXXTX.  The  story  of  the  farmer's  life  is  here  continued, 
from  page  189.  The  Indian  summer  is  now  over.  Signs  of  approaching 
winter.  Winter  work — taking  care  of  the  cattle — threshing  the  com. 
The  country  school-house.     Winter  sports.] 


A  young  man  idle,  an  old  man  needy. 

Drive  thy  business,  or  thy  business  will  drive  thee. 

Every  day  of  your  life  is  a  leaf  in  your  history. 


204  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON"  XC. 
May  Morning. 

1.  It  is  May'— it  is  May\ 
And  all  earth  is  gay'; 

For  at  last  old  Winter'  is  quite  away\ 
He  lingered  a  while  on  his  cloak  of  snow". 
To  see  the  deRcate  primrose"  blow. 
He  saw'  it,  and  made  no  longer'  stay : 
And  now'  it  is  May' — it  is  May\ 

2.  It  is  May'—\\j  is  MaY'  ! 
And  we  hUss'  the  day 

When  we  first'  delightedly  so  can  say. 

April  had  beams'  amidst  her  showers'^ 

Yet  hare'  were  her  gardens'^  and  cold'  were  her  bowers'; 

And  hev  frow7i'  would  blight'^  and  her  smile'  betray': 

But  now'  it  is  May'— it  is  May'  ! 

3.  It  is  May'— it  is  May'  ! 
And  the  slenderest  spray 

Holds  up  a  few  leaves  to  the  ripening  ray ; 
And  the  birds'  sing  fearlessly'  out  on  high, 
For  there  is  not  a  cloud'  in  the  calm'  blue'  sJcy'; 
And  the  villagers'  welcome'  the  happy  day ; 
For,  oh !  it  is  May'— it  is  May'  ! 

4.  It  is  3fay'— it  is  May'  ! 
And  the  flowers'  obey 

The  leaves'^  which  alone  are  more  bright'  than  they ; 
Yet  they  spring'  at  the  touch  of  the  sun'^ 
And  opening  their  sweet  eyes,  one  by  one. 
In  a  language  of  beauty'^  seem  all  to  say. 
And  oi  plrfume' ^  It  is  May' — it  is  May'  ! 

[Lesson  XC. — an  exultation  on  the  arrival  of  May — is  here  introduced 
for  the  purpose  of  thorough  elocutionary  drill  in  emphasis  and  inflec- 
tion. The  principal  emphatic  words  are  designated  by  Italics  and  small 
capitals;  and  the  marks  denoting  the  inflections  are  used  more  freely  than 
is  generally  desirable.     The  piece  is  suitable  for  declamation.] 


THIRD  READER.  205 

LESSON  XCI. 
The  Child  and  the  Skeptic. — In  Prose. 

1.  A  little  girl  was  sitting  beside  a  cottage  door, 
on  a  sultry''  summer  day.  The  Bible  was  lying  on 
her  knee,  and  she  was  reading  from  its  pages,  when 
there  passed  by  a  traveler,  who  begged^  a  glass  of 
water,  and  a  seat  to  rest  himself,  for  he  was  faint 
and  weary. 

2.  "  Come  in,  sir,"  said  the  little  maiden,  "  and  I 
will  get  you  a  glass  of  water.  Will  you  take  a 
seat,  and  rest  yourself  a  while^  ?  Mother  is  always 
glad  to  do  what  she  can  to  cheer""  a  weary  travel- 
er." And  while  the  man  drank,  and  chatted*^  mer- 
rily with  her,  she  took  her  seat  again  at  the  cot- 
tage door,  the  Bible  on  her  knee. 

3.  At  length  the  traveler,  quite  refreshed,^  arose 
to  depart.  Now  it  happened  that  he  was  a  skeptic^ 
— that  is,  he  did  not  believe  the  Bible.  So  he  said, 
"  What,  child^ !  are  you  still  reading  the  Bible'  ? 
I  suppose  it  is  your  lesson."  "  Oh  no,"  said  the 
little  girl ;  ^4t  is  r  o  lesson.  I  have  no  task  to  learn ; 
but  I  love  to  read  the  good  book." 

4.  "And  ivhy^  my  little  girl,"  said  he,  "do  you 
love  that  book^  ?  Why,  this  pleasant  day,  are  you 
sitting  here,  and  reading  over  its  pages^?"  She 
looked  up  with  surprise.  "  Why  love  the  Bible, 
do  you  ask'  ?  I  hope  you  are  not  angry,  sir',  but  I 
thought  that  every  body''  loves  this  holy  book'."^ 

5.  The  skeptic  smiled  at  this*  answer,  but  made 

*  In  this  remark  a  question  is  implied ;    and,  being  a  direct  question,  it 
requires  the  rising  inflection. 


206 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


no  reply :  but,  as  lie  traveled  on,  lie  thought  mucli 
about  what  the  little  girl  had  said.  "  It  was  a 
strange  answer,"  said  he.  ^^And  why  do  not  1 
love  the  Bible  too^  V  he  said  to  himself,  with  a 
sigh. 

6.  He  reflected  f  he  resolved  :^  he  looked  at  his 
own  heart  within^,  and  he  lifted  up  his  thoughts  in 
prayer  to  God  above\  He  began  to  read  the 
Bible^ ;  he  confessed  its  truth^ ;  and  with  sincere 
love  he  worshiped  the  God  who  made^  him.  He 
who  had  been  a  proud  skeptic^,  lived  and  labored 
many  a  year  after  this — a  Bible'loving-man. 


o  SuiZ-TEY,  very  warm. 

•^  Beg'ged,  asked  for. 

•=  Cheek,  comfort. 

''  Chat'-ted,  talked  familiarly. 


e  Ee-feesh'ed,  cooled  and  relieved. 
*■  Skep'-tic,  a  doubter;  an  unbeliever. 
^  Re-flect'-ed,  considered. 
^  Ke-$olv'ed,  determined  what  to  do. 


[Lesson  XCI.  is  a  paraphrase,  or  free  rendering,  of  the  followingjesson 
in  poetry.  Let  the  pupils  tell  the  story  of  the  lesson  in  their  own  lan- 
guage. It  would  furnish  a  series  of  useful  exercises  in  composition  for  the 
pupils  to  take  all  the  lessons  in  poetry  in  this  book,  and  write  out  the  sub- 
stance of  the  same  in  prose.] 


LESSON  XCII. 
The  Child  and  the  Skeptic  — In  Verse. 

1.  A  little  girl  was  sitting  beside  the  cottage  door\ 

And  with  the  Bible  on  her  knee',  she  read  its  pages  o'er\ 
When  by  there  passed  a  traveler\  that  sultry  summer  day', 
And  begged  some  water,  and  a  seat',  to  cheer  him  on  his 
way\ 

2.  "  Come  in,  sir,  pray,  and  rest  a  while',"  the  little  maiden 

cried' ; 
"To  cheer  a  wear^  traveler'  is  mother's  joy  and  pride\" 
And  while  he  drank  the  welcome  draught,*  and  chatted 

merrily'. 
She  sought  again  the  cottage  door,  the  Bible  on  her  knee\ 


THIRD  READER.  207 

3.  At  length  refreshed,  the  traveler — a  skeptic  he — uprose^  :^ 
"  What !  reading   still  the  Bible,  child'  ?   your  lesson^  I 

suppose\" 
"  No  lesson,  sir\"  the  girl  replied ;  "  I  have  no  task  to 

learn^ ; 
But  often  to  these  stories  here',  with  joy  and  love  I  turn\" 

4.  "And  wherefore  do  you  love  that  book,  my  little  maid,  I 

pray\ 
And  turn  its  pages  o'er  and  o'er,  the  livelong*^  summer 

day^  ?" 
"  Why  love  the  Bible,  do  you  ask'  ? — how  angry,  sir,  you 

look^ : 
I  thought  that  every  body  loved  this  holy,  precious  book." 

5.  The  skeptic  smiled\  made  no  reply\  and  pondering',^  trav- 

eled on^ ; 
But  in  his  mind  her  answer  still  rose  ever  and  anon: 
"I  thought  all  loved  the  holy  book^  —  it  was  a  strange 

reply : 
Why  do  not  Zthen  love  it  too^  ?"  he  whispered,  with  a 

sigh. 

6.  He  mused,®  resolved,  examined,  prayed^ ;  he  looked  with- 

in', above^ ; 

The  Bible  read,  confessed^  the  truth ;  and  worshiped  God 
with  love. 
1      A  nobler  life',  from  that  same  hour',  the  skeptic  proud  be- 
gan'. 

And  lived  and  labored  many  a  year — a  Bible-loviiig  man. 

a  Dkaijght,  pronounced  draft.  I   ^  Pon'-deb-ing,  meditating. 

*»  Up-kose',  arose.  *  Mu»et>,  considered;  reflected. 

<=  Live'-long,  long.  I    ^  Con-fess'ed,  admitted;  acknowledged. 

[Lesson  XCII.  is  the  same,  in  substance,  as  the  preceding  lesson.  Tlie 
goodness  and  artless  simplicity  of  the  little  maiden  were  probably  more 
effectual  in  leading  the  skeptic  to  serious  reflection,  than  all  the  sermons 
he  had  ever  heard. 

Moral. — The  all-powerful  influence  of  good  example,  even  though  it 
come  from  the  humblest  individuals.] 


208 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


LESSON  XCIII. 
The  Ants  in  the  Garden 

J; 


'I'M  ^  ill  I  in  i 


1.  Early  one  morning  in  summer,  as  Willie  was 
walking  in  the  garden,  just  after  tlie  sun  had  risen, 
he  saw  a  large  number  of  ants  collected  around  an 
ant-hill,  near  the  hedge,  a  little  distance  from  the 
cultivated  ground. 

2.  He  called  to  Uncle  John,  who  was  just  then 
coming  out  of  the  house;  and  when  Uncle  John 
came  up,  Willie  pointed  out  to  him  the  swarm  of 
ants.  Both  then  stood  and  watched  the  motions 
of  the  little  insects  for  some  time. 

3.  While  some  seemed  to  be  quietly  sunning 
themselves,  others  were  busy  bringing  out  of  the 
hill,  and  laying  down  in  the  sun,  little  white  bod- 
ies almost  as  large  as  a  grain  of  wheat.     Willie 


THIRD  READER. 


209 


asked  Uncle  Jolm  if  these  were  the  eggs  of  the 
ants. 

4.  ^'  No,"  said  he,  "  these  white  bodies  are  the 
little  grubs  and  the  cocoon s,""  which,  after  a  while, 
will  become  full-grown  ants.  The  real  eggs  are 
white,  but  they  are  only  about  as  large  as  a  grain 
of  sand." 

5.  ^*But  do  ants  pass  through  those  wonderful 
changes  which  you  told  us  about,^  the  same  as 
caterpillars  and  butterflies  V  asked  Willie. 

6.  *'  Very  much  the  same,"  replied  Uncle  John, 
"  except  that,  in  the  last  .change,  only  a  few  become 
winged  insects.  Did  you  ever  see  an  ant  with 
wings,  Willie  ?" 

7.  ^'  I  suppose  I  have,"  answered  Willie,  "  now 
that  you  say  some  of  them  have  wings.  One  day, 
when  I  was  out  in  the  field  with  our  man,  he  split 
open  a  large  rotten  log,  and  it  was  full  of  holes, 

out  of  which  the  ants 
rushed  like  a  swarm  of 
bees;  and  some  of  the 
largest  of  what  seemed 
to  be  ants  had  wings." 

8.  "Those  ants  that 
have  wings,"  said  Uncle 
John,  "  are  the  masters 
and  mistresses  of  the 
Female  Ant.  mausiou ,'  for  thcy  sel- 
dom do  any  work,  and 
do  not  often  go  abroad ;  btit  those  which  you  see 
without  wings  are  the  workers^  or,  as  they  are 
sometimes  called,  neuters, 

*  See  page  164. 


^10  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

9.  "  These  worlcers^''  said  he, "  like  the  workers 
among  the  bees,  gather  the  food;  they  also  take 
all  the  care  of  the  young.  They  are  the  warriors 
of  the  tribe,  also ;  for  they  bravely  defend  their 
homes,  sometimes  fighting,  with  hostile  tribes,  ter- 
rible battles,  in  which  hundreds  are  slain  on  both 
sides." 

1 0.  •"  How  wonderful !"  exclaimed  Willie.  "  I 
should  like  to  know  all  about  these  curious  crea- 
tures." 

11.  "You  would  find,"  said  Uncle  John,  "that 
these  little  ants,  which  you  have  seen  so  often,  and 
yet  know  so  little  about,  have  a  most  wonderful 
history.  But  I  will  tell  you  more  about  them  this 
evening,  when  Minnie  and  Lucy  can  be  with  us." 

12.  Willie  stood  watching  the  little  insects  for 
some  time.  Soon  he  saw  an  ant  take  up  one  of 
the  white  grubs  in  its  mouth,  and  carry  it  into  a 
hole  in  the  top  of  the  ant-hill.  This  seemed  to  be 
a  signal  for  the  others,  for  soon  all  the  grubs,  and 
cocoons,  and  all  tte  ants  also,  disappeared  in  the 
same  way. 

13.  Where,  but  a  little  time  before,  thousands 
were  running  about,  now  not  a  solitary  ant  was  to 
be  seen !  "  And  yet,"  thought  Willie, "  who  knows 
but  all  the  ground  in  the  garden  is  alive  with 
these  busy  creatures!  I  wonder  what  kind  of 
homes  they  live  in,  and  what  they  are  doing  down 
there  in  the  earth !  I  wonder  if  Uncle  John  can 
tell !" 

'  €o-€OON8',  see  page  170, 
[Lesson  XCI^IL  pves  a  brief  account  of  the  ants^  as  they  are  often  seen 
in  our  gardens  and  fields.     The  winged  females  are  much  larger  than  the 


THIRD  READER  211 

males,  and  the  males  are  larger  than  the  workers.  The  latter  are  some- 
times called  neuters.  Like  the  workers  among  the  bees,  they  are  imper- 
fectly-developed females.  In  time  the  female  loses  her  wings,  either  tear- 
ing them  off  herself,  or  allowing  them  to  be  torn  off  by  the  workers.  ] 


LESSON  XCIY. 
The  Wonders  of  Ant-life. 

1.  These  are  some  of  the  ma-ny  wonderful  things 
about  ant-life,  which  Uncle  John  told  the  children, 
when  they  were  assembled,  in  the  evening,  around 
the  table  in  the  dining-room. 

2.  ^'  From  the  time  of  Solomon,"  said  he, "  ants 
have  been  noted  for  their  industrious  habits.  But 
it  is  only  those  known  as  tvorkers  that  are  indus- 
trious ;  the  others  are  as  idle,  and  as  lazy,  as  the 
drones  in  a  bee-hive. 

3.  "As  soon  as  the  first  rays  of  the  morning  sun, 
in  summer,  fall  upon  an  ant-hill,  those  workers  that 
are  on  the  watch  at  the  doors  of  the  dwelling  run 
below,  and  arouse  the  sleepers. 

4.  "  Then  the  working  ants  pour  forth  in  crowds, 
when  those  among  them  that  act  the  part  of  nurses 
may  be  seen  carrying,  in  their  jaws,  the  little  grubs, 
and  also  the  cocoons,""  just  as  the  cat  carries  her 
kitten.  These  are  left  a  short  time  in  the  sun,  to 
be  warmed;  then  they  are  carried  within  doors, 
when  the  little  helpless  grubs — the  babies  of  this 
large  family — receive  their  morning  meal. 

5.  "  You  may  ask  what  they  eat,  and  how  they 
are  fed.  The  nurses  feed  them  with  the  sweet 
juices  of  plants,  which  the  nurses  themselves  have 
swallowed;    and   they  put   this   food   into   their 


212 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


mouths,  just  as  the  pigeon,  or  the  dove,  feeds  its 
young. 

6.  "  But  this  is  not  all  that  the  busy  workers 
have  to  do.  They  must  gather  all  the  food,  not 
only  for  themselves,  but  for  the  lazy  winged  ants 
also.  And,  besides,  they  must  see  that  the  eggs, 
the  little  grubs,  and  the  cocoons,  are  kept  just 
loarm  enough  all  the  time.  If  it  be  a  cold  day, 
they  carry  them  down  into  the  lower  chambers  of 
the  dwelling;  and  in  warm  weather  they  bring 
them  into  the  upper  rooms. 

7.  "  But  these  workers  manage  to  get  some  time 
for  play  also ;  for  on  fine  sunny  days  they  may  be 
seen  in  crowds,  running  about  on  the  outside  of 
their  nests,  patting  one  another  with  their  feelers,^ 
rising  upon  their  hind  feet,  and  wrestling,  pretend- 
ing to  bite,  but  never  injuring  one  another  when 
in  play. 

8.  "Although   ants  kill,  and  feed  upon,  most 

kinds  of  insects,  there  is 
one  kind  which  they  treat 
in  the  most  friendly  man- 
ner. These  are  the  little 
insects  commonly  known 
as  plant -lice,''  on  whose 
bodies  may  be  found  a 
sweet  juice  called  honey- 
dew^  which  the  ants  are 
very  fond  of.  Here  is  a 
picture  of  two  or  three 

kinds  of  these  insects,  with  their  friends,  the  ants. 

9.  "  The  ants  often  climb  the  highest  trees,  and 


Aphides  and  Ants  (the  fonaier  greatly 
magnified). 


THIRD  READER.  213 

search  for  these  little  creatures  among  the  leaves ; 
and  when  they  find  them  they  caress  them  tender- 
ly, patting  them  gently  with  their  feelers,^  and 
sucking  the  honey-dew  from  their  bodies.  They 
never  harm  them  in  the  least. 

10.  "  But  I  have  something  quite  as  curious  'to 
tell  you  about  the  ivars  of  the  ants ;  for  some  kinds 
of  the  ants  go  out  in  plundering  bands,  and  make 
war  upon  their  neighbors  for  the  purpose  of  ob- 
taining slaves. 

11.  "They  do  not  carry  off  full-grown  ants, how- 
ever, but  only  the  little  grubs,  or  infants.  These 
they  carry  home,  and  treat  with  the  kindest  care ; 
but  when  they  are  grown  up,  they  are  kept  as 
woi'hers^  and  they  do  all  the  household  drudgery 
in  their  new  homes.  They  seem  to  work  very  wil- 
lingly ;  and  they  even  help  fight  the  battles  of  the 
colonies  to  which  they  belong.  They  never  seem 
to  dream  that  they  were  stolen ! 

12.  "But  ants  sometimes  make  war  upon  one 
another  for  the  purpose  of  conquest,  and  to  get 
possession  of  the  dwellings  of  their  neighbors.  I 
will  give  you  an  account  of  one  of  their  battles ; 
although  you  yourselves  may  see  something  of  the 
wars  of  these  insects,  if  you  will  look  carefully  for 
the  ant-hills  in  our  pine-woods,  almost  any  pleas^ 
ant  day  in  the  latter  part  of  summer. 

13.  "The  battle  which  I  am  going  to  tell  you 
of,  was  between  two  nests  of  brown  ants  on  the 
one  side,  and  ^lyq  nests  of  black  ants  on  the  other. 

14.  "First,  the  brown  ants  came  down  from 
their  hills,  and  took  their  places  on  the  plain,  in  a 


214 


WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 


single  line  of  battle.  Then  the  much  more  nu- 
merous, but  smaller  black  ants,  marched  down  from 
their  hills,  and  took  their  places  fronting  their  en- 
emies, in  tliree  lines  of  battle ;  but  on  their  right 
wing  they  had  a  body  of  several  hundred  warriors, 
and  on  their  left  wing  a  mass  of  nearly  a  thousand. 

15.  "Soon  the  fighting  began,  and  the  battle 
was  carried  on  with  great  fury  on  both  sides ;  for 
the  jaws  of  the  ants  are  powerful  weapons.  Soon 
heads,  and  headless  bodies,  and  torn-out  feet  and 
legs,  could  be  seen  lying  all  over  that  little  battle- 
grounds 

16.  "After  nearly  two  hours'  fighting,  in  which 
great  numbers  w^ere  slain,  the  battle  ceased ;  when 
all  that  were  left  of  the  brown  ants  fled.  Then 
the  black  ants  took  possession  of  the  dwellings  of 
their  enemies,  carrying  along  with  them  their 
wounded  fellow-soldiers." 

17.  The  children  were  very  much  interested  in 
what  Uncle  John  had  told  them  about  the  ants: 
it  was  all  new  to  them,  and  so  wonderful,  too! 
"  These,"  said  he,  "  are  only  a  few  of  the  strange 
things  that  are  now  well  known  about  these  curi- 
ous insects.  Thus  every  part  of  God's  creation  is 
found,  when  we  examine  it  closely,  to  be  filled  vdth 
wonders !  Even  an  ant-hill  is  a  little  world  with- 
in itself!" 


»  €o-€oon',  see  page  170. 

^  Feel'-eks,  called  an-ten' -ncB ;  the  two 

long,  movable  organs  on  the  heads  of 

most  insects. 


c  Plant-ltoe.  Their  correct  name,  in  the 
plural,  is  aph'-i-des;  singular,  d'-phis. 
There  are  many  species  of  them. 


[Lesson  XCIV.  continues  the  history  of  ant-life.  The  labors  of  the 
ants  in  taking  care  of  their  young.  In  addition  to  what  is  here  mentioned, 
the  little  eggs,  grubs,  and  cocoons,  require  to  be  kept  constantly  moist  by 


THIRD  READER.  215 

the  saliva  of  the  workers ;  otherwise  they  would  dry  up,  and  perish.  The 
ants  at  play.  The  aphides,  or  plant-lice.  Plundering  expeditions  of  the 
ants,  to  provide  themselves  with  slaves,  or  workers.  Their  wars  for  con- 
quest.    Account  of  a  battle.     Every  part  of  creation  filled  with  wonders.] 


LESSON  XCY. 
The  Child's  Pkayee. 

1.  Into  her  chamber  went 

A  little  girl  one  day ; 
And  by  a  chair  she  knelt, 

And  thus  began  to  pray : 
"  Jesus',  my  eyes  I  close\ 

Thy  form'  I  can  not  see^ ; 
If  thou  art  near  me,  Lord', 
I.  pray  Thee,  speak  to  me\" 

A  still  small  voice  she  heard 

Within  her  inmost  soul : 
"  What  is  it\  child'  ?     I  hear ; 
I  hear  thee — tell  me  alP !" 

2.  "  I  pray  Thee,  Lord,"  she  said, 

"  That  Thou  wilt  condescend* 
To  tarry ^  in  ray  heart. 

And  ever  be  my  friend. 
The  path  of  life  is  dark^ — 
I  would  not  go  astray^  r 
Oh,  let  me  have  thy  hand. 
To  lead  me  in  the  way' !" 

"  Fear  not' ;  I  will  not  leave 
Thee,  little  child',  alone\" 
And  then  she  thought  she  felt 
A  soft  hand  press  her  own. 

3.  "They  tell  me.  Lord,  that  all 

The  living  pa*s  away' : 
The  aged  soon  must  die'. 
And  even  children  may".    • 


216  WILLSON'S  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

Oh,  let  my  parents  live 

Till  I  a  woman  grow\ 
For  if  they  die',  what  can 
A  little  orphan^  do' ?" 

"  Fear  not,  fear  not,  my  child' ! 

Whatever  ills  may  come', 
I'll  not  forsake  thee  e'er,^ 
Until  I  bring  thee  home' !" 

4.  Her  little  prayer  was  said' ; 
And  from  her  chamber  now 
She  passed  forth  with  the  light 

Of  Heaven  upon  her  brow'. 
"  Mother',  I've  seen  the  Lord — 

His  hand  in  mine  I  felt\ 
And,  oh !  I  heard  him  say, 
As  by  my  chair  I  knelt' : 

'  Fear  not,  fear  not,  my  child' ! 

Whatever  ills  may  come', 
I'll  not  forsake  thee  e'er. 
Until  I  bring  thee  home' !' " 


"  CoN-T)E-scENT>',  be  willing. 

**  Tab'-bt,  remain ;  dwell. 

*  A-stbay',  out  of  the  right  way. 


^  Oe'-phan,  a  child  who  has  lost  its  par- 
ents. 
®  E'ee,  ever. 


[Lesson  XCV.  is  a  touching  description  of  a  little  girl's  prayer.  She 
prays  that  the  Lord  will  draw  near,  and  make  his  presence  known  to  her 
— that  he  will  dwell  in  her  heart — lead  her  in  the  right  way — preserve  the 
lives  of  her  parents,  etc.  Although  she  can  not  see  the  Lord  with  her  nat- 
ural eyes,  she  looks  upward  with  the  eye  o^  faith,  and  believes  that  her 
prayer  will  be  heard  and  answered.] 


The  Record  op  Life. 

The  record  of  life  runs  thus :  Man  creeps  from  in- 
fancy into  childliood — bounds  into  youth — sobers 
into  manhood — softens  into  age — totters  into  sec- 
ond childhood,  and  stumbles  into  the  grave  pre- 
pared for  him.  * 

THE   END. 


/■ 


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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


WyiiiSON'S  READERS  AKB   SPELLERS. 


'.  SCHOOL  A^D  FAMILY  SEBIES. 

BeatUifully  Illmtraied. 

Z.  The  Primer,  adapted  to  interest 
and  instruct  small  children,  begins  with  the 
Aluhabet,  and  extends  to  words  of  fovir  let- 
ters. It  haa  much  of  the  simple,  conversa- 
tiopal  style. 

II.  The  f'irst  Reader,  beginning 

with  ea:jy  words  of  four  letter-*  in  Tart  I., 
extends  to  easy  words  of  six  letters  in  Parts 
IV.  and  v.,  and  a  few  easy  words  of  twd 
and  three  syllables.  Inflections  are  given 
where  required,  but  no  rules. 

III.  The  Second  Reader  is  divid- 
ed into  Seven  Farts,  each  preceded  by  one  or 
m-re  simple  elocutionary  Kules,  designed 
for  the  Teacher  onUj. 

IV.  The  Third  Reader  cont:\ins, 

after  a  brief  synopsis  of  the  "  Eletu  atJ  of 
Elocution :" 
Faux  I.  Stories  from  tho  V" 

Fart  If.  ■  Moral  iA'.^sonrt. 
'  irst  iJiv'riiO'i 

I  ..■.,,  i  .  .  ..li-icellanc'dx 

V.  The  Fourth  Reader  contain.^; 

U) ;  '•  Elements  of  Elecuii.Ci"  t"  .1  same  a  hi 
the  Third  Header,  an  ticK\u.^6  veferi^nce  i-^ 
ma'l"  to  tlie  Rules. 

r         ■     '"     Its  of  Human  rhya'olngy. 

nd  Division  of  Animal  Life — 
(  ■  iiirds. 

i  A ;,  i  1 ! .  1-  irst  Division  of  Vegetable  Phys- 
i'li.v..;-, ,  <,r  Hotany. 

I'Ai'.T  IV.  Miscellaneous. 

Part  V.  First  Division  of  Natural  Philos- 
onhy, 

Pa-rt  VI.  Saired  History. 

VI.  The  Fifth  Header. 

!'/.  Kv  f     '  i  'i.'utiouarj'. 

rpetology,  c^r  Reptiles. 

■>-j,ni  Divisiru  of  Phy8iolog7 

f- 

'' -tany. 


ir.  ><utural  Pidtosophy,  continried. 
!II.  First  Division  of  Mn'sical  Ge. 


Part  IX.  Firat  L'j\i:sion  o: Liien.- 

Part  X.  First  iJivigiou  of  Geoloj. 

Iakt  Xi.  Ancient  History. 

Miscellaneous  Divisions,  erabrachijr  ttip 
finest  Liter  iry  Selections,  8uci'eed  each  of 
the  foregoing. 

Two  Hi'jhtr  Headers  of  ihiji  Series  liave 
been  announced,  and' much  of  the  labor  of 
their  coqipilation  has  already  been  dene,  it 
is  desigued  to  complete  them  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible; biu  iiH  Sixth  and  Seventh  .Keaders  are 
used  in  but  few  public  schools,  easy  lesson ; 
on  some  of  the  most  interesting  subjects  of 
Natural  History,  set  fepart  lor  these  lugh-^r 
books,  have  been  written,  and  introduced  m 
the  following  Intermediate  Series. 


II.  INTERMEDIATE  SERIES. 

Beauiifulltj  Illustrated, 

I.  A  Third  Reader.     This  deader 
^s  designed  as  an  Intermediate  book,  io  be 
'     - !  beiween  tiie  Second  and  Third  i:  i'-' 
"   Scliool  and  Family  series,   ' 
wish  an  additional  book  for  ;( 
(n  p\ipils.     While  it  aims  to  prct:*!''  . 
vMTi"t.y  of  reading-mattej  — much  <;.: 
tional-,  with  numerous  lessons  on  v'-- 
Auiy,  &e. — it  nevertheless   adhere.-   !•>  the 
general  i)rinciples  on  which  the  other  Read- 
ers were  ■written.    Thi?.^  some  of  the  interest- 


ing  metamorpho 

nects  are  here  d( 

lessons,  designed  . 

full  exposition  of  the  g> ;.  ; 

er  Readers. 

uH^^S,  <fcc.,  of  / 

a   ftvr  f;inilli; 

i  ■iory  to  a  mo 

al  subject  in  Ing 

21.  A  Fourth  Rcr 

is  designed  as  an  Intt 
used  between  the  77./, 
of  the  School  an  ? 
be  used  immedia* 
Third,"  whH>.  ^ 
The  book  0 
features;  u; 
to  the  subji 

1 

A  Frir 

andT-  '- 

A 

Pynuuv>>i  . 

Tiie  kading  id-n  of  the  1  ig'-er  nambers  of  the  Schoo" 
i::-\  to  the  capacities  of  children,  the  Higher  English  Br-v 
whole,  in  a  Series  of  Intkbepttns;.  "  .vh,  and  Progiu  ssi  vn  i'c 

wants  of  our  Ihibiir  as  we".!  as  I 

The  Natural  SciiiNCEtt,  and  ..,..,..,.,...  ,,,..  (lorny  ■••■'■'■  -^  ■■*"  '*";■.. 
sented  in  a  new  and  attractive  light,  divested  of 
dput  and  anecdote,  adorned- by  pootJe  selections,  an  1 
A  great  variety  of  miscellaneous  read'ng-nuitter  is  also  m:.  .  .hic(!il. 

No  other  Series  of  Readers  makes  any  approach  to  thi:»  in  1  .xtent.^ 
'  ^"  T.'jsTRATioNB.  HARPER  &  8ROTHF'  ' 


